If This Was a Movie
by MelodyPond17
Summary: Julia Ogden, accomplished, talented, and beautiful actress, is struggling with the fame her career has given her. William Murdoch, awkward and shy, is struggling to support himself and his sister working a minimum-wage job in Toronto. Can two people who live such different lives come together? Jilliam, modern-day AU, many canon characters will feature.
1. Chapter 1

_ "Cut!"_

Julia Ogden exhaled, wiping her brow and moving immediately from the glare of the cameras, into the cool shade. She was content to sit down on the roots of the tree that cast the shadow for a while, watching the bustle of the set, the light chatter that arose from it. As a rule, Julia was quite the social butterfly, but seven hours of filming with the blazing sun beating down upon her black costume had drained the life out of her.

Biased as she was, Julia had to admit New York City was breathtaking. It truly was the city of a million stories waiting to be told. Upon arriving in the city for the first time four years ago, Julia had been stunned into silence by the magnificence of the golden sun sinking below the skyline, leaving rhubarb-pink and fiery red-orange clouds in its path. She had, naturally, been homesick for Toronto, but the buzz of constant traffic, honking horns and conversations was familiar and comforting. The skyscrapers towered high above her, caressing the sky and twinkling brightly, their silvery sheen reflecting the neon lights of the cars rushing through the streets. It had taken her the space of a year to get used to New York, but she found herself finally able to expertly navigate the city. She finally felt she somewhat belonged and was no longer an outsider.

Of course, living in America was a challenge. In Canada, she had felt as if she had more of a private life. There were noticeably less reporters and paparazzi, and never before had she been stopped in the street for a photo or an autograph. Nowadays, she had to fight her way through swarms of people simply to dash into the grocery store tucked on the corner in order to pick up a carton of milk. There were endless parties, personal invitations, important award shows, and interviews. Everything in America was larger, flashier, and diverse, and Julia much preferred her quiet life in Canada. That said, moving to the States had been a vital step upwards in her career, as her agent had forthrightly put it. Julia agreed, and despite being the punch line of endless jokes about igloos, maple syrup, and hockey, she didn't regret her move. She was now doing what she loved most and had dreamed about when she was just a girl- acting.

Julia's thoughts were rudely interrupted by the harsh argument between her director, a short, portly man, and her co-star. Her lips twitched into a smirk as she leaned forwards, attempting to listen to the heated conversation.

Darcy Garland was huge in the film-making industry, and no matter how hard she tried, no matter how generous she attempted to be, Julia could not see why. She had initially been rather impressed with his portfolio- fourteen movies already under his belt, but had swiftly discovered his acting skills were second to none. "Wooden," Julia grumbled to herself, tapping her knees with her hand in a fast, erratic beat. "And somewhat dim."

As Julia regarded the pair with curiosity, Darcy threw up his hands in frustration, a vein pulsing on his forehead, and strode away. "You're the expert," he spoke with acid, tossing the vicious words over his shoulder. The director looked satisfied, patting his pockets, his own forehead beading with sweat. "Take a short break, Mr. Garland," he said with some degree of smugness. "Then we're onto the next scene. Moving up the lawn."

Darcy grunted an intelligible word, stalking over to where Julia sat. Julia, who had enjoyed the little confrontation, curled her hands over her knees and forced her frozen lips into a lighthearted smile. "Mr. Garland."

"Please, Julia," he waved a hand, "call me Darcy." He sat down beside her, only inches away, and Julia gritted her teeth on a protest. "Our director is absolutely vulgar."

"Mr. Prenfrew?" Julia laughed. "Take no notice of him. He is very passionate about his films. I do admire that about him. What was your disagreement towards?"  
Darcy grimaced, pulling a face and tugging at his hair. "I didn't agree with his take on the scene we're filming. I envisioned it quite differently."

Julia wrinkled her nose, scooting away from Darcy, and attempting to draw little attention to the fact. "He is the professional, with many awards to prove it. Asides from that, the man is impossibly stubborn. It won't do you much good to bicker with him."

"You've worked with him before?" Darcy's surprise was evident, and she rolled her eyes. "My first project. It's partially thanks to him that I got where I am today." She leaned back absentmindedly, ignoring the rough bark prickling her back, keeping her eyes on the horizon. Darcy smirked. "And, of course, thanks to that agent of yours."

"Speak of the Devil," Julia mumbled quietly, having spotted a bright, almost eye-blindingly, yellow sports car pull into the lot besides the set. "And the Devil shall appear."

"What was that?" Darcy asked politely. She paid him little attention as she hopped to her feet, brushing small twigs and blades of grass off of her costume. "Oh, you'll have to excuse me. My agent, manager, and representative- a man of many talents, you see- has arrived. I must go and greet him." Without waiting for a reply, Julia hitched up her skirt and made her way over to where the car sat. "What are you up to, Thomas?" she called to him loudly, ignoring the stares it incited.

"Do I always have to be up to something, sunshine? Can't an agent just want to see his favorite client?"

Thomas Brackenreid was the type of agent every actor required in order to make it big in the business. He managed to get the best of gigs and opportunities, snatching them from right under other agents' noses and enjoying it all the while. The man could charm any director or filmmaker into getting what he wanted for his client, and though Julia hated to admit it, he had gotten her out of several tense situations. He had his shortcomings- a nasty temper at times and a slight drinking problem (despite assuring his wife he had not touched a drop of alcohol in months)- but Julia was thankful to have him.

"What have you done?" she said, sighing, leaning against the car.

"What have I done? What have you done? I seem to recall a little incident whilst filming your last project, sweetheart. I came to make sure you hadn't lost your temper-" he looked at her meaningfully- "again."  
Julia narrowed her eyes, moving aside so he could get out of the car. "Are you ever going to let that go, Thomas? Just because I grew angry…."

Thomas smirked, crossing his arms. "And attacked the director with a pool noodle."

"That was aggressive negotiation," Julia protested, smiling. "It's good to see you, truly, Thomas, but why are you here? Don't think I haven't noticed you continue to call me 'sweetheart' and 'sunshine'. You only do that when you've done something you know I won't approve of."

Thomas winced, and expertly avoiding the inquiry, he glanced over to where Darcy still sat, looking rather forlorn. "That must be your handsome co-star," he said, his grin widening. "We haven't yet been introduced." Without waiting for Julia's reaction, he made his way over to the man. Darcy immediately leaped up to eagerly shake Thomas's hand, while Julia watched suspiciously, having no desire to join the two men.

* * *

When Thomas returned to his car, he found Julia waiting for him, barring access to the car door. She wore a look of stubbornness upon her face, and she smirked as Thomas leaned back in resignation. "What is it?"  
"I spotted you and Darcy whispering conspiratorially, and I'd much like to find out what it was you were discussing." Julia crossed her arms, refusing to budge.

"Personal matters," Thomas replied, narrowing his dark blue eyes, and attempting in vain to step around Julia. Julia's eyebrows shot up. "You've only just met the man. Surely you are not revealing your deepest and darkest secrets to him?"

"Perhaps he was confiding in me. I've been told I'm quite the fatherly figure," Thomas shot back, and Julia found herself unable to suppress an unladylike snort at that statement. "Yeah, right."

"Are you doubting me?" Thomas asked, trying to wriggle his way out of the subject at hand. Julia immediately recognized his evasion tactics, being quite familiar with them herself. "I'm serious, Thomas. If you were discussing me, I think I have a right to know."

"All right, you win. I was…" The agent winced, clearly aware she would not commend what he was about to tell her. "Well, sunshine- I was thinking, and I figured you needed a little more publicity. You haven't been on the front pages of the tabloids for weeks."

"That's what this movie is meant to do," Julia countered, keeping her steely eyes on him.

"Yeah, but that's taking too long. You need something big now. So… I… you know Darcy Garland is one of the most popular actors out there. If the media were to think the pair of you- you know- were involved, you would make a big splash."

There was a lengthy pause as Julia processed this, her eyes widening and her cheeks flushing with a dark red rage. "What did you say." Her tone was flat, emotionless.

All the while, Thomas was edging towards the buzzing crowd of people, clearly under the impression large numbers would protect him. "I ran the idea by Darcy, and he liked the idea. I made sure he knows it's only for publicity. We arranged a date for you two, very public, lots of room for pictures and reporters. You'll be a page-turner again."

Julia had been slowly growing angrier and angrier at each word her agent uttered. Her muscles tightened and her teeth gritted; her green-blue eyes shone with fury. She had been trying her best to keep composed, determined to not fly off of the handle again. At his final statement, she lost control. "I will not go out on a date or be involved with Darcy Garland for the sake of _publicity_!" she shrieked, throwing her hands in the air. There was a beat of quiet whilst Thomas came up with a reply. "I know it sounds odd, but it's for the greater good, sunshine."

"What_ is_ the greater good, Brackenreid? The _money _it will put in _your _pocket? You had _no _right to go behind my back and arrange something that you _knew _I wouldn't go through with! If you want publicity, _you _go on a date with Mr. Garland! That will certainly make front pages!" Julia lowered her voice a notch, aware she was attracting unwanted attention from further up the set.

Thomas smirked a little. "Now you're simply going over the top, Julia." Whilst she was occupied, he had managed to slip by her and into his car. With his confidence regained, he turned the key in the engine and as it purred, he flashed another, unfazed grin, at Julia. "You'll come around, sweetheart. You always do."

"It's uncanny how much you sound like my father," Julia spoke coldly. "You're wrong. I won't give up on this, Thomas. I won't go about getting attention this way."

She watched as the car pulled away, joining the busy roads that outlined the grass lawn, scowling heavily. She had no intention of letting her exasperating agent win this particular battle, no matter what it cost her…


	2. Chapter 2

Toronto was William Murdoch's favorite place.

When he thought on it, he found he was unable to pinpoint and exact reason why. Perhaps it was because he had grown up in the city, and was used to the ever-present hum of the traffic and the light chatter that floated through the air. Perhaps it was the sheer architecture that drew him to the city, as he was endlessly fascinated with design and invention. He had once imagined himself to be an architect, just like his childhood idol James Pendrick, but said dreams had been crushed early on in his life. The appearance and familiarity of Toronto, however, was not the only thing he loved about it.

The streets of Toronto bustled with people; the variety alone was enough to dazzle a passerby. Tall and short, thin and fat, light and dark. Different expressions danced across different faces- the pale woman with the arched eyebrows and the stormy gray eyes wore a contrite expression, the tanned man with graying hair a smug one. Some walked quickly, impatiently, while some took a slow, ambling pace. Several were quiet and thoughtful, while others talked endlessly and were endlessly immersed in the goings-on around them. When William was younger, he had always raced to the candy shop tucked in the corner of the street behind where his run-down apartment lay. He had bought the cheapest candy possible with the meager allowance his father occasionally doled out when he was in a good mood, and then sat on the stone steps eating and observing. William had liked to think he could tell things about people just by watching them, and would often pretend he was a detective, attempting to find out who had committed a ghastly murder. He'd never talked to anybody, being quite the introverted child, but he had been quite content just to watch, reveling in the deliciousness of the sweet stuff he ate. Sometimes he brought Susannah with him, but she was fidgety and wished to move around and talk. Exploring the city streets, though, she had enjoyed-, which was fortunate, because after the death of their mother, they were often left on their own. Harry Murdoch much preferred late nights in the pub, drinking until he was unable to form coherent sentences, to looking after two young children, so William had taken on the role of father at a young age. He was ever wary of his father, of course, but he knew there was help for him and his sister if things were to grow too bad. William shuddered to think of what it would have been like a century ago, when things were a great deal harder.

Yes, there were bad memories on these streets he knew like the back of his hand- the time he had gotten lost in the swell of people, all of who cared not one bit for a young boy like him, the time he and Susannah had been cornered by a man with ill intentions, the oil-streaked corner street where his mother had been struck by a car- but the good memories trumped them. It was final, absolute. Toronto was William's city.

William had no idea why he reflected on this as he walked slowly to lunch. The day, thus far, had been mind numbing, not that this was any sort of revelation to him. He had known the job did not present anything of interest to him when he had spotted the advertisement, a cream colored piece of stationery stapled firmly on the side of a mailbox, but he had insisted upon taking it. Money was desperately low for him, and not only did he pay for his needs, he continued to help pay Susannah's way through university. William simply couldn't bear to break her dreams of becoming a teacher, and this coupled with the fact he believed she would make a very good one, was enough for him to burn through his bank account for his younger sister. She'd protested, but it was no good- when William was determined, he could be impossibly stubborn.

As William entered the little Tim Hortons only a few steps away from the tall building where he worked, his phone buzzed loudly, vibrating against his leg. With an apologetic look at the people waiting to enter the doors behind him, he stepped to the side to let them wander by. Crammed now into a tiny corner of beige wall, he suppressed a wince at the edge of the wall dug into the small of his back and sliding his phone out of his pocket, he typed in his code **{1901} **with steady and sure fingers.

_Will! Are you on lunch yet?_ Enthusiasm almost oozed out of the short text.

_Yes, George, I am always on lunch at this time. Just like I told you last week. _William's reply was patient; after six months of sharing a living space with his keen, eager-to-please roommate, he had learned patience was the most effective way of getting through to him. Besides this, George may have been irritating at times, but he was pure of heart and steadfastly loyal. It was refreshing to have a reliable friend in times like these, when companions turned against you in the blink of an eye.

_Oh. Nevertheless, Will, I have spent all morning beginning to write my novel. I wanted to run my ideas by you, if you're not too busy. _

William smirked a little. _The one involving Martians?_

_Actually, they weren't Martians. They were from the moon. Moonartians! I have scrapped that idea. I came to the conclusion that it was farfetched. I wished to write about something that was more realistic. _

William raised an eyebrow, finding himself unable to combine the words 'George' and 'realistic' in his reply. Eventually, after some hesitation, he settled with _What will your next novel involve then, George?_

_Dinosaurs. In Toronto. Reining fiery death and destruction down upon innocents. In the midst of terror, there is hope: one daring man named __Georgio __can stop them using only his wits and his brains. _

_You're definitely playing the realistic angle for all it's worth, George._

William snorted in amusement, and after waiting a few moments for a reply that never arrived; he assumed George was once again lost in his wild imagination. He rejoined the line, which had shortened considerably. The server looked up at him, a smile spreading across her face as she observed him. She couldn't have been more than twenty, and had dark hair pulled into a messy bun. The girl tapped her little bronze nametag, settled proudly in the collar of her shirt. "My name is Penny, and welcome to Tim Hortons! What can I get you, sir?"

Her enthusiasm proved to William that she was new to the job; she reminded him of George, in a way. "Hi. Can I get a c…"

"Coffee?" she interrupted, bouncing on her heels and half-turning to shout the order to her colleagues. William shook his head quickly. "No. I'm not fond of coffee. Terribly bitter, in my opinion. I'm confused as to how it caught on, especially as we have tea."

Penny eyed him oddly. "Okay, then, sir. Um, what would you like to order, then?"

"A cream cheese bagel, please," William said politely, undeterred by her blunder.

"Coming up," Penny muttered, barely audible, and slipped away to serve another customer. William watched the young woman curiously for a moment, and then retreated to the other end of the counter. It was there he spotted a flyer. Interested, he pulled it towards him, flipping it around in order to perceive the large picture and the sweeping font beneath it. Upon seeing it, his breath caught and his heart sped up.

Julia Ogden, accomplished, talented, and beautiful actress, graced the cover of the flyer.

Upon reading further, William realized it was an advertisement for her latest movie, of which a trailer had recently surfaced. William wasn't much of a film person- he much preferred books- but he had seen almost all of Julia's films. In the beginning, it was simply because George had dragged him along, but he had slowly become enraptured by the starlet. It was clear acting was her passion; she put much into it and was able to convincingly portray any character thrown at her. William would say he admired her as a person as well, but there was no saying if she was the Julia Ogden the world knew her as, or if that was just another character.

"Sir?"

Confused, "Huh? Oh, I'm sorry. Thank you." Hurriedly, he took the food he had ordered and paid. "Keep the change," he added, distracted, as she moved to give him a dollar back. She offered him a quick smile, her eyes brightening. "Thank you. Have a nice day!"

William exited the little store, almost walking into a rather plump woman in his haste to make it out into the sunshine. After apologizing profusely, he began to absent-mindedly wander the streets, eating his lunch. He was aware he hadn't much time; their manager had only granted them a short half-hour lunch break, and he had wasted the majority of it on discussing novels and dinosaurs with his inventive roommate. He turned down a side street; paying absolutely no attention to where he was putting his feet- he was on autopilot. In all honesty, William was feeling dreadfully sorry for himself. Generally, he was not one for any sort of self-pity. He saw no point at all in wallowing over ones' problems, but he found himself unable to drag his thoughts away from Susannah, his drunken father (whom he hadn't spoken to in years) and the miserable existence in which he resided currently. He had thought, all those years ago, that he would live a happy and contented life, one in which his father was supportive, money was plenty, Susannah was flourishing… but, clearly, God had other plans for William. He just wished that God's plans were clearer, more defined, and easier to understand. William had no idea where his life was going, or why it had gone so terribly wrong early on. When he was small, he would curl himself into a corner, usually after his father had struck him, and wonder what he had done to anger his God. Surely God _was _angry with him for some reason; why else would his mother and the father he had once known be dead? Those days, spent huddled up in a crook of wall, apologizing quietly and asking for his parents back, were still awful memories for him, after all these years. He had just been a _child_, raising ice to his swollen jaw, tears splashing down his cheeks.

That was a large part of the reason he so badly wanted children and a family. He needed to prove he was better than his father; he needed to make sure that his son would never suffer what he did. But, of course, having a family any time soon seemed unlikely. How would he be able to help support them as well as Susannah, with his current job? What woman in her right mind would ever fall in love with _him_? Granted, due to William's handsome looks, women tended to be interested in him- but upon actually getting to know him, they always shied away. He was certainly no expert in the romantic department, shy and awkward. William would often find himself tongue-tied and bright red when the opposite gender spoke to him, finding females to be mystifying creatures that were utterly impossible to understand. Besides this, he hadn't yet found someone of whom he was interested in. The last date he had gone on was with a most dreadfully boring woman named Enid Jones. He had been forced to sit through two hours of her talking animatedly about her favorite brands of designer clothes and the shades of nail polish that best went with her hair. Then, finally, when she had given him the chance to speak, he had quickly discovered she shared no common interests. Watching her pick apart her salad without eating even half of it had been immensely painful, and of course she had expected him to pay for it. Needless to say, the evening had been a catastrophe, and a very dull one at that. William had made sure to 'accidentally' drop the number she had given him into a puddle on the way home. No, William would only court and eventually marry somebody he could relate to. Somebody who could make him laugh and keep the conversation interesting, somebody who was kind-hearted and unselfish, and somebody with a brilliant mind… he wanted to find somebody he would, without a doubt, wish to spend the rest of his life with.

He laughed, shortly, at his high expectations. Love didn't work like it did in the films, like it had in Julia Ogden's latest movie.

His ringtone, emanating rather loudly from his pocket, snapped him from his rather morose thoughts. For the first time since arriving, he looked at his surroundings- he was now on a wide, dead-end street bordered with large houses. The houses were tall, vivid, well-kept, and bright green lawns rolled out from the paved driveways. Clearly, this was a wealthy neighborhood. William wasn't exactly sure how far he had wandered, and his face paled as he checked the time on his still ringing phone. He had precisely four minutes to get back to work, or else he would be late. His supervisor didn't take kindly to tardy people, and William knew he needed this job, despite his distaste towards it. William prepared himself for a sprint, and then flinched as the phone rang shrilly once more. The caller was clearly insistent upon reaching William, even though he didn't recognize the number. It was a strange sort of number, quite different from the ones William so often saw. It seemed to be a long-distance number.

He clicked connect and held the phone to his ear as his strides lengthened and time ticked on. Before he could say a curious hello, he was suddenly interrupted by an extremely angry voice.

"_Ruby Ogden! _How _dare _you?" the voice, clearly female, demanded. There was a pause; William was far too surprised to speak. The voice continued, even more incensed by the silence. "I can't _believe _you did_ that_! You're worse than Thomas! What on Earth were you thinking? What would mother say? Fame has gotten to your head! I just had to sit on live television and _defend _you, whilst attempting to preserve my own dignity. I sounded like an idiot! You better have a good explanation for this-"

"Excuse me?" William broke in timidly, having halted. There was another silence, and the voice returned, still very angry. "And just who are you? Ruby's latest boyfriend, I expect? I'll bet she's hiding behind you, giving you that innocent look and making out that she's the victim! I feel obliged to warn you that you are not the first and certainly not the last in a long line of male interests for my _darling _little sister, no matter how rich you happen to be. In fact, the reason I'm calling is because she has been discovered canoodling with a married man! I do hope it wasn't you!" The woman barely took a breath between her livid accusations, and William found himself gaping in sheer astonishment. Was this woman completely insane?

"I- I…" he stammered, "I'm not sure… I think you have the wrong number."

"The wrong number? Did _she _tell you to use that excuse? Well, tell her this: I am going over to her house to have a few-"

_It's very unlikely to be a few, _William thought,

"Words with her. If she's not there, or does not answer, I will kick down her door and wait very patiently for her to return. Much obliged!" she snapped icily, and as William tried to formulate a response, he was greeted with the low beeping noise that signaled the other party had hung up. Frozen in place as the moments trickled by, he slowly lowered the phone. Who had that been? What in the world had they been talking about? They had referred to Ruby Ogden, the younger sister of Julia Ogden, as their little sister. As far as William knew, there were only two Ogden sisters. Could it be possible…

"Of course not," he told himself, speaking his thoughts aloud. "The likelihood of Julia Ogden calling _me_, even by mistake, is minimal." He checked his phone again for the time before stowing it away and cursed something he didn't do often. William began dashing through the streets once more, confused, miffed, and very, very, late.


	3. Chapter 3

The rain was pelting down in thick silver sheets, streaking the ground and making it very hard to see. Julia turned a corner and stumbled blindly towards the big, handsome house that she instinctively knew to be Ruby's, despite her lack of sight. Thunder rumbled softly in the distance, and the clouds, thick and dark, rolled overhead. Julia swallowed as she looked up, feeling suddenly claustrophobic. _Don't be silly. _She told herself. _You're outside_. Still, as she crossed the long-winding driveway, her chest felt tight and her breathing hitched. Shaking her head as if trying to be rid of an irksome fly, she approached the white marble steps that led the way to the highly arched doorway of Ruby's home. Pausing to glance despairingly at the obvious expense of the house- how just like Ruby to wish to flaunt her wealth- she knocked on the door several times, pulling back on the golden knocker. Julia waited edgily, attempting to comb back her wet and bedraggled hair to no avail. She drew her raincoat closer to her body.

Just when Julia thought Ruby was purposely ignoring her, the door swung open suddenly and Ruby Ogden bounced out. She took in Julia for several seconds, her eager smile fading a little. "Jules, you look like a half-drowned rat," Ruby told her bluntly. "And what are you wearing? Some sort of horrible cloak from the _Harry Potter _films?"

"You didn't even watch those movies, Ruby," Julia pointed out, stepping past Ruby and into the house without waiting for invitation. "And it's called a raincoat. Surely you've heard of them before?" Her voice was stiff; she was still quite upset, though she had blown off quite a bit of steam since her call to Ruby.

"I watched the trailers," Ruby retorted without missing a beat. She almost squealed as Julia entered the house, and followed, closing the door behind her and shutting out the steady pounding of the rain. Wildly gesturing, "You'll get the floors all wet!"

"Let me guess, the floors are made of solid gold," scoffed Julia, paying no heed to her sister's antics. She hung her soaking wet coat up and wrung out her hair, much to Ruby's dismay. "I can't believe the weather," she said. "It was only yesterday I was filming underneath the boiling sun."

Ruby's eyes sparkled with a mischievous light at that statement. "How is your movie going, Jules? I saw the promo, and I'm ever so eager to watch it." She stepped closer, giving Julia a smug, knowing glance. "Thomas dropped by earlier. He hinted you might be getting close with your handsome co-star. How is Mr. Garland?"

"How would I know?" Julia responded brusquely, her eyebrows arching, her shoulders bracing. "There's nothing going on between Darcy and I, nor will there _ever_ be-"

"Ooh, you and _Darcy_," giggled Ruby, and Julia glared at her. "You infuriate me," she muttered, under her breath, "More than you did when we were younger."

She followed her sister down the long hallway into the kitchen more slowly; Ruby seemed to skip or dance everywhere she went. The room was large and rectangular, with dark floors lightened by the puddles of sunlight that streamed in through the windows. Everything was neat and orderly, and a round glass table sat in the centre of the room. Julia had to admit it was architecturally beautiful, though she thought it was a bit of a waste in Ruby's house, as she seldom cooked, often going out to the fanciest restaurants that the United States had to offer. Julia herself wasn't the greatest cook (a certain incident involving the fire department and an irate father was firmly lodged in the back of her mind), but her own cozy kitchen was plain and drab compared to this grand room of Ruby's. Half frowning, she took a seat at the table and gratefully wrapped her hands around a mug of coffee. "How do you always know when I need a coffee?" she asked with a smile, and Ruby rolled her eyes. "Easy. You always need a coffee. Caffeine addiction, Jules, ever since Daddy gave you a sip of his cappuccino when you were ten."

Julia wrinkled her nose. "I am not _addicted_ to caffeine. I just enjoy a cup of coffee, that's all." She took a sip, and exhaled appreciatively upon swallowing. "Delicious. Thanks again. That's just what I needed after such a trying day. Coffee is a divine invention."

Ruby nodded sympathetically. She had joined Julia at the table, but seemed discontented to sit, as she twirled around on her chair. She began to fiddle with her hair, and then immediately placed both perfectly manicured hands on the surface. "I always need a good cigarette after a hard day. It helps me brighten up." She lifted a hand and inspected her nails closely, only lowering it when the silence between the two stretched on. Julia was staring at her. "You're too young to smoke! You told me you quit that filthy habit."

"I… did. Well, I tried. It lasted for a day and a half. Jules, that's development! Daddy thinks so, at least," Ruby finished weakly, giving her elder sister a beseeching look.

"Father would think so," Julia retorted, "He smokes about two packs a day." Still, her disposition softened and she sat back. "Have you at least been cutting down?" she asked.

"Of course I have! I only smoke at the end of the day… and before a photo shoot… and when I go out," Ruby implored, and then hastily changed the subject. "So, Julia, what brings you here on this fine evening?"

"You know perfectly well why I am here, Ruby," Julia replied stiffly, and when Ruby looked perplexed, she leaned forwards. "Your affair with Mr. Wells?"

"Oh, that's old hat," Ruby said airily, her tone casual. It was as if they were discussing meals or fashion trends. "Samuel was far too clingy. I can see why his wife brought out the divorce papers, to be honest. He continually texted, called, and emailed me."  
Julia spluttered for a second, looking at her in disbelief. "His wife _brought out the divorce papers _because she discovered he was having an affair! With _you_!"

"That's one of the contributing factors," Ruby spoke cheerfully, picking up the remote on the counter and flicking the TV on. "Oh, look, the Royal baby has been born!" she squealed in genuine delight, actually clapping her hands together in her glee.

"Ruby," Julia began, but Ruby immediately interrupted her.

"Please, Jules. I'm young. I'm testing the waters. You can't truthfully say you never did anything reckless or scandalous at my age. I did some much-needed publicity, sending out a _heartfelt_ apology in regard to my involvement with Mr. Wells." Ruby smirked for a moment, and then the smile dropped off of her face. Her eyes filled with tears, and she began to blink quite rapidly. "I d-don't k-know what I was t-thinking," she blubbered, dabbing delicately at her eyes with a lace tissue she had produced from her pocket. "I-it all seemed so f-fun and h-harmless at the t-time. I didn't k-know it would fabricate such disastrous results. Looking back now, I'm so a-ashamed of myself. I don't k-know if I can repent my actions, b-but I'm fully p-prepared to do everything and anything I can to try and reverse the situation I had a hand in p-producing." She fluttered her eyelashes innocently, a lone tear streaking down her cheek. Then Ruby looked up, and her gaze hardened. "I am truly, deeply sorry. Really, I am. You can quote me on that."

Julia looked at her, completely gone out. Ruby's dazzling smirk returned and she wiped her cheeks, leaning back. "That's almost exactly what I said in my interview. I think I really moved the audience and my interviewer, and I'm fairly certain this bump in the road will not affect my career in the long-term."

"Forget modeling," Julia said flatly, folding her hands under her chin with a weary sort of patience, "Your calling is in acting. I actually almost believed you were sorry."

"I know! I should really talk to my agent about getting me some acting gigs. Maybe we could act together in a film, Jules! Wouldn't that be fun?" Ruby exclaimed, animated once more. Julia pressed her fingers to her temple, feeling a headache begin to form there. She made a final attempt at chiding Ruby, though she knew it wouldn't make the slightest ounce of difference. "Ruby, you cannot go on this way. You're tarnishing your image and your modesty!" Her tone was scolding, as if her sister were still seven.

"On the contrary, I believe I have enhanced my image. I think I'm surpassing even you in fame, Jules. The reporters love me, and I've gotten thousands of offers for interviews and such since I started opening up to the public. I look at my interviews as sort of… oral diaries." Ruby had remained perky, and had barely looked at Julia over her phone.

"Enhanced your image in a negative way! Do you keep anything to yourself nowadays?" Upon seeing Ruby was only half-paying attention, Julia grew very frustrated. "What are you even doing on your phone?" she snapped, "Googling your own name?"

Ruby looked up at her with wide, innocent eyes. "Surely you know I'm not that self-centered," she said sweetly. "If you must know, I'm updating my Twitter. It's all the rage nowadays- I already have a million or so followers. You should get one, Jules, and maybe a Facebook and Instagram as well. You'll increase your fan base that way."

"By snapping photos of myself?" growled Julia, bad-temperedly. "Or posting that I just ate a piece of fruit? I don't care for such things, and you know this, Ruby."

"Oh, but everybody _else_ cares! It's ever so… what's the word… mainstream."

Julia's eyebrows shot up. "Did you just say _mainstream_?" She stared incredulously at her sister. "Please don't ever say mainstream again, for the sake of my sanity."

"And then there's Tumblr," continued Ruby, very enthusiastic; seemingly ignoring Julia's somewhat barbed comments. "I have a blog on there, where I write about anything that comes to mind. I believe if I wasn't in my current profession, I would like to be a journalist …"

Julia gave up on trying to speak after a moment of attempting. When Ruby began talking, she often didn't stop until she _a.)_ Had to take a breath, or _b.) _Had nothing left to talk about. Both seemed very unlikely; Ruby seldom ran out of discussion topics, and Julia had learned the girl was half-fish during an incident at their childhood cottage.

"… I don't know what I'd do if I lived in an age without technology. I was just watching a documentary about the late 1800s and the early 1900s the other day. I couldn't believe it, Jules. Can you imagine no phones, or computers, or cars? I don't know how they survived. Apparently, even dentists were akin to torture back then..."

Julia zoned out and focused on the flat-screen television, which was nestled in the corner of the kitchen. At first, she was unable to make out what was playing, and after a moment, the images sharpened. She sat back against her chair with a resigned sigh, her eyes narrowing and her hands gripping the edge of the seat instinctively.

_Laughter rippled through the room, loud and obnoxious, and the show host looked rather pleased with himself. He ruffled his shirt collar and gave the audience a quick smirk, waiting until the mirth died down before speaking in a clear confident voice._

_ "Today we have rather an unexpected guest, as Mr. Harris found himself unable to make today's show." Groans of disappointment cancelled out the continuation of his statement, and he grimaced along with the audience. "I know, I know. I was looking forward to having a chat with him as well. However, once I learned the identity of our new interviewee, I was- if possible- more excited than before."_

_There were a few cheers at this; most of the audience was leaning forwards in their chairs. This was clearly the effect the host wanted, as he took his time in choosing his next words. "I would like you to enthusiastically welcome Miss Julia Ogden!"_

_The roar that greeted him was absolutely deafening, and it only increased in volume as Julia took the stage. Spotlights danced across the stage, which was raised and tilted slightly above where all the chairs rested. The host himself was slightly pink in the cheeks, and he applauded Julia with the rest of the audience. He stood to kiss her hand and help her take a seat in the comfortable white chair beside his own. If Julia was in any way shy, she did not show it as she thanked the audience and took a seat, crossing her legs and looking altogether very unperturbed by her surroundings. The two of them waited for silence once again, and then the host broke into a wide grin. "It's fantastic to have you here. I must say I am a huge fan of your films."_

_"I'm thrilled to be here. Thank you again for inviting me, Mr. Poundsett," Julia replied, smiling at him. "I've watched several interviews of yours as well."_

_"Call me Reg; everybody on here does," Reg said, nodding rapidly. He seemed almost overcome by the actress's presence, but he quickly returned to his normal self. "So, Julia- may I call you Julia? - I do have to ask about the progress of your current film. How is it going? Filming in this stifling heat-wave must be exceedingly difficult for you."_

_ "I am truly enjoying working on this film. It's a delight to be working with Mr. Prenfrew again, and I was amazed by the intelligence of the script. Everybody is doing such an amazing job, and deserves full credit. Filming in the heat wave has been agonizing, but I'm confident it will grow better in time." Julia's reply was steady and confident; she didn't miss a beat after Reg asked her the question. He raised an eyebrow at her, and then appeared to think for a while. "May I ask you a more personal question?"_

_Julia was hesitant, but then she smiled. "Go ahead, Reg."_

_He seemed extremely pleased she'd called him Reg, and again he straightened his dark silver suit. "I of course wish to ask you more questions about the many roles you have played over the years, as well as how you have been dealing with the fame that has so suddenly been sprung on you…but I wished to first question your sister's actions."_

_"Ruby?" Julia asked, furrowing her brow. Reg sat back, looking surprised. He seemed to be choosing his words carefully. "Ruby Ogden…is your younger sister, correct?"_

_ "__Of course," Julia replied, a bit impatiently. "Why?"_

_ "__Well…" There was a prolonged silence from the audience and Reg looked distinctly uncomfortable. "You weren't aware that… um… Ruby was caught with the married Sam Wells? It was… quite… startling…and the result was the conclusion of Mr. Wells' marriage."_  
_Julia's eyes flew wide, and she stared at Reg for a moment as if she couldn't believe her ears. "Mr. Wells being the well-known producer? I met him on several occasions."_

_ "That's the one. Would I be right in assuming Miss Ruby hasn't confided in you on these matters? I was under the impression the two of you were rather close."_

_Julia's eyes were now icy; her posture was stiff. "Of course we are." Her tone matched her stance, and Reg put his hands up as if surrendering. "I apologize if I somehow offended you, Julia, really I do. But…now you know… and I'd like to know your thoughts on the issue."_

Julia winced, reaching for the remote and clicking the television off. The screen was washed clean almost instantly with black, and she growled to herself. She had no desire at all to watch her screen-self stumble her way to disgrace in an attempt to defend her sister's actions without justifying them. She took a sip of coffee to calm herself, and then frowned quizzically at Ruby. "Where did you get this coffee?"

Ruby scowled herself, her eyes narrowing. "I made it."

"Don't lie. This coffee is far too good for you to have made it," Julia countered evenly, taking another steadying sip of said delicious coffee. "You don't even have a coffee machine in the house. Who's doing your errands today, Ruby?"

"His name is Robert. Robert Perry, I believe. I met him and his friend at the local Tim Hortons, and Robert seemed quite infatuated with me. He's a university student- isn't that wonderful? Sometimes I do wish I hadn't quit high school…"

"As do I," muttered Julia dryly.

"And he bought me a coffee. I asked him to buy an extra one for you, as well, as I knew you'd be over soon." Ruby smiled sweetly, twirling a lock of her blonde hair casually.

"Then he was the one who answered your phone for you?" Julia groaned. "I feel terrible about that now, though I suppose warning him off you was a good turn in itself."

Ruby furrowed her brow. "You called me?" she asked, her tone bemused. She jumped to her feet, spinning as she did, and made her way over to the counter where her iphone lay. Her fingers swiped rapidly against its screen, and she shook her head, pursing her lips. "I don't have any missed calls."

"Maybe somebody answered it for you and you weren't aware of it?" asked Julia, a blush beginning to sear its way onto her cheekbones.  
Ruby shook her head resolutely. "I left my phone at home all day today. It was an accident, of course. I barely survived the day without my baby." She cradled her phone.

Julia's mouth hung open for a moment, and she tried and failed to form coherent words as the seconds trickled by. "But- then- how did you know I was coming?"

"As soon as I got home, I checked my phone. You'd sent me several angry texts. I rushed out to get a coffee as a peace offering as quickly as I could," Ruby explained. Her eyes brightened with understanding, and she threw her head back to laugh heartily. "Oh, Jules, you must have accidently dialed the wrong number. I do hope you didn't give the poor, unsuspecting soul too much of a mouthful!"

Julia ducked her head, mumbling something unintelligible, her cheeks now a flaming red color. "I didn't give him… too much of a mouthful. I only said…"

"Yes? What did you say?" Ruby asked jubilantly, clearly enjoying every moment of this.

"I didn't really… say. I, um, shouted. About you… and staying away from you." Julia buried her head in her hands. "I feel like complete garbage now," she groaned lightly.

Ruby patted her sister's hand, wearing a readily sympathetic face. "Don't feel too badly, Julia. You probably only traumatized the man. The least you'll have to do is pay for his therapy-"

"This isn't funny, Ruby," moaned Julia through her fingers. Ruby raised her eyebrows. "Don't worry about it. Weeks from now you'll be laughing just as hard as I am. Once you've gotten over your embarrassment." She gave Julia a patronizing look. "The only thing you have to worry about is whether your victim was connected to the media. Tomorrow the magazines could be sporting stories about Julia Ogden verbally assaulting unwary phone-users. That would be very awkward for you." Ruby whistled a tune.

Julia looked grim. "Is that likely?"

"No," replied Ruby, "I'm just winding you up. Though, of course, it _could_ happen."

Julia straightened up, stretching her legs out under the table and clearing her throat. "Don't start," she warned the girl candidly, and she pulled out her phone. "I'm going to call him back," Julia added, her face stiff with determination as she scrolled through her calls placed, "And profusely apologize for my misconduct."

Ruby looked horrified. "Why on Earth would you do _that_?" she protested, her eyes growing wide. "Just let it go. He'll probably forget about the whole thing…. After a few years and four physiatrists." A mischievous grin curled across her face, wiping away her previous expression. Julia bit her lip, and after a moment of staring decisively at the radiant screen, she hesitantly placed the phone down. "…Fine. You win."

Ruby practically glowed at these words. "I haven't heard you say that in a long time."

"And you won't again for a long time," seconded Julia, smiling reluctantly. She squinted at the windows, and slipped her arm into Ruby's. "It's stopped raining. Why don't you show me the magnificent grounds that accompany this house of yours?"

Ruby was only too eager to comply, and the two strolled down the hallway and out of the door. Julia closed the front entrance securely, the phone left, very forlornly, on the table.


	4. Chapter 4

William's home was not impressive from the outside- short, tucked away in a corner of Toronto, with neon graffiti slathered all over its dark-bricked surface. The plants encircling it were overgrown and yellowing, some even gradually creeping up the sides of the walls. A gravel driveway curled towards the building, leading to a square lot. The once-bright lines that marked separate parking spaces had long faded and were barely visible under the circumstances, let alone when they were covered in rain, snow, or fog. Despite this, William was rather fond of the building he lived in. Notwithstanding his pitiless landlord, and the outward state of it- said pitiless landlord refused to look after his property unless he was paid to by his residents- William had been living in it for about a year. Before that, he had shifted around from place to place, unable to afford bills for extensive periods of time, and the constant change had nettled him. He was content, now, with staying where he was. He was closer to Susannah than he had ever been before, and she was all he really had left in this world. William liked the stability that this place brought him, though of course it would be temporary stability. He wouldn't, _couldn't_, spend the rest of his life here. Fondness aside, the cons often outweighed the pros.

William pushed the stiff, resistant door open, grunting with the sheer effort. He was rewarded by a blast of cool air, and he sighed in relief as he slipped through the worn main room. William supposed the correct term was a lobby, but the rectangle room with the crumbling ceiling and the patchy, dust-ridden carpet didn't much strike him as a proper lobby. All was silent as he swung open another door- this one with a rusty doorknob and a sagging frame- and William made his way down a long hallway decorated with hideous green wallpaper. It was so quiet that he could hear his own carpet-muffled footsteps, and his lips tightened as he rounded a corner and heard an all-too-familiar voice dishing out orders and mild abuse.

William braced his shoulders and quickened his pace, hoping to get to the safety of his apartment (if you could call it that) before his dreaded landlord appeared in the flesh. Unfortunately, William had come at just the wrong time. Percival Giles, a rather imposing and unlikable man, emerged from one of the doors that lined the hallway of the first floor. His face was flushed with anger and he wore an expression of great distaste upon spotting William, as if a rather unpleasant smell had been put under his nose.

William and Giles had their history; even before they had properly met, Giles had taken a hearty dislike to William. Of course, he had been befuddled by this, wondering what on earth he had done to antagonize the man. William had tried to make amends for something he hadn't done, but Giles had coldly brushed off his attempts and continued to act impertinently toward William. "I'll tolerate you, so long as you pay your rent on time, Murdoch," he had said shortly many a times.

Naturally, because of this, running into a foul-tempered Giles was the least thing William wanted to do, especially after his tiring day at work. He only had time to reflect on his horrendous luck before his landlord bore down upon him.  
"Murdoch," Giles snapped. He paused for a moment, searching for something to say.

"Mr. Giles," William said, as politely as he could manage. He stood firmly and met the man's distinctly unfriendly eyes, not intimidated by his manner.

After a prolonged hesitation, Giles said harshly, "That dog of your roommate's was barking last night. I got a complaint about it. Keep it down, or the dog will have to go."  
"Shouldn't you be talking to George- Mr. Crabtree about this matter?" William asked politely, raising his eyebrows. Giles bristled. "I need you to pass along the message. Is that a problem for you, Murdoch?" he said, tightening his lips and scowling.

"Not at all. I was just on my way to our apartment," William replied steadily. With a nod, he brushed past his landlord and continued down the hall, glancing warily behind him several times. When he finally reached the door that led to the living space that he and George shared, he fumbled with his rusty key and inserted it into the keyhole, twisting hard. The lock stubbornly held for a moment, and William lost patience quite quickly. He shoved against the door, turning the key with all his might, and the door swung rapidly, bouncing on its hinges and nearly whacking him in the face. He moved nimbly at the last second, sidestepping the assault, and entering the small apartment. Violet was at his heels immediately, panting her welcome, and he smiled and leaned down to pat the golden retriever dog. "Good girl," he murmured quietly to himself. These words seemed to excite her, and she skittered away, no doubt to fetch some toy or other. Getting Giles to agree to keep a dog had been a long and arduous quest for poor George, and one that had nearly been unsuccessful. William believed that Giles had only allowed them to keep her because he was fond of dogs himself, though he would never admit such a thing. Either way, he was glad that Violet would be staying with them. She quite reminded him of a dog his family had once owned.

"Will? Is that you?" called a familiar voice, jerking him out of his thoughts. George Crabtree bounded into the kitchen with a funny resemblance to the dog that had just exited. His face was alight with enthusiasm, per usual, and William suppressed a smile as he turned to put away his things. George watched him for a moment, cursing as Violet re-emerged and trotted heavily on his feet. "Ow! Violet! Sweet mother of… so, how was your day, Will? I took your advice to heart on my novel… I'm two chapters in… I must say that the title character, a most tall and dashing man, is coming across very well."

"I'm glad to hear it, George," William said stolidly, doing his best not to grimace. George would no doubt dub him proofreader, and he had been hoping to sneak a visit to Susannah that evening. "My day was the usual. Tedious at best."

George tapped the pen he held against his chin. "Tedious," he repeated, slowly, smiling a bit. "That's just the word I was looking for. Hang on a minute!" He fished a pad of paper out of his pocket and set it against the counter, scribbling away rapidly.

William swung open the fridge and exclaimed in dismay as he looked through the empty shelves. Except for a few stray eggs here and there- George had an odd habit of eating eggs whole- there was nothing to be seen. He straightened up. "Where's all the food?" he asked, frowning. His stomach growled loudly, as if to accentuate his statement.

George looked up from his paper, wearing an apologetic expression. "Henry's here. He's helping me with ideas for my writing."  
"And he cleaned out the fridge?" William demanded irritably.

"Er… a little," George replied, not immediately throwing his friend to the sharks.

Henry Higgins was a good friend of George's, despite their dissimilar personalities. The pair had met through work, as both were part of the Toronto Police Force, and often were lumped together to perform the most arduous tasks the force offered. Henry was quite different from George, often complaining about his job, and his sarcastic nature grated on William's nerves. Henry was certain to scoff at the strange story about the phone call, and the fact that he tended to raid the food supply whenever he was over did nothing to endear him to William.

But this time he gritted his teeth and remained silent, following George to the tiny living room, where he abruptly collapsed on the couch. Henry, who was sitting at the rusty old computer, turned in his seat and nodded. "We heard Giles shouting from here," he said with a small grin. "You didn't run into him, did you?"

"I did, actually," William replied shortly. "He warned me about Violet's barking."

"You don't need to worry about that. She was only barking because apparently, George was singing karaoke last night. She was trying to get somebody to rescue her from the horror," Henry told him, immediately.

George, who had taken a seat beside his colleague and was staring intently at the monitor, gave a little indignant twitch. His voice was miffed. "I completely nailed that song! Violet was just… my… backup singer."

"What song was it?" William had to ask, amused despite himself.

George chose not to answer. He turned back to his computer, clicking and typing quickly.

William snorted quietly, and turned his attention to the dog-eared tabloid magazine that was half-stuffed into the sofa. Wondering why on earth George would own such a thing, he yanked it out and held it up, his heart rate increasing dramatically when he spotted Julia Ogden on the cover. She wore a beautiful red dress, her thick reddish-brown hair was piled atop her head in a wave of curls and her smile was as bright as the New York scenery behind her. Tearing his eyes from the picture after a moment of staring, he focused on the bold headline and furrowed his brow. He opened the magazine and began flipping the pages, lowering it discreetly so Henry wouldn't spot him with it.

**Julia Ogden, who is currently filming a hot sci-fi flick helmed by the famous Wilfred Prenfrew, managed to spare a few minutes for an interview this morning. She gestured us to a table outside of Starbucks, holding a muffin in her left hand. She munched on it as we asked her our questions, apologizing profusely- "This is all I'll eat for five or six hours. I'm off to the studio, and we have quite the block of filming on our hands," she said, groaning a bit. We were just thankful she could squeeze us in at all. Ogden has been on the rise as an actor for years, and she has recently achieved the stardom and fame we know she deserves. We asked a few questions about her film- ****_"I love working on it. I truly enjoyed the script, and working with Mr. Prenfrew again is fabulous. I commend him for his devotion to his projects.", _****about her wild-child sister, who was just yesterday spotted partying hard at a club- to which she refused to comment, merely saying that Ruby's actions were her own- and about how she's dealing with fame- ****_"It's quite bewildering, and it jumps out at you when you least expect it. Being recognized is the oddest thing I have ever experienced, but I'm happy to greet my fans and sign autographs if I have a pen handy. The paparazzi are difficult to handle, though. I doubt I'll ever get used to them."_**

**Of course, there was one thing we were determined to ask about, and it came in the form of Ogden's handsome co-star. Ever since filming began on their shared project, speculation has arisen towards the nature of Darcy Garland and Ogden's relationship. Originally, they both insisted it was a working relationship only, but have since fallen silent on the matter. Many believe they are dating secretly, while others claim they have been dating since before their work together. Thomas Brackenreid, Ogden's agent and publicist, has said nothing about these claims, which struck us as peculiar. Brackenreid has fended off many stories about his client over the years, and always- ****_always_****- has something to say when questioned by the media. Perhaps he has no retort this time around because supposed 'out-of-control' stories are true? We figured the only way to get to the bottom of this mystery was to ask the centre of the conjecture themselves. **

**Ogden seemed harried and a bit irritated when we asked her, and she kept her response short and formal. ****_"Mr. Garland and I have only a working relationship. I admire him as an actor and a person, and I'm grateful I have had an opportunity to work with him. Any further rumors are completely inaccurate_****. ****_I regret that I haven't yet addressed them officially."_**

**And that was that.**

**What do you think? We can't help but wonder how truthful she's being- it's well known that she likes to keep her personal life well hidden from the media. Next week, we'll have an exclusive interview for you from Darcy Garland himself. Perhaps he'll be more forward. **

William folded the magazine and put it away, sliding it across the floor. He found himself slightly bothered by the topic of the interview, and the gossip that it incited. Surely Julia Ogden's personal life was her own business? She had stated that she was not involved with Garland. Was that not enough for some people? Why would anybody find joy in discussing such matters? It quite frankly perplexed him, and still frowning, he glanced over at George and Henry. The pair were staring, enraptured, at the computer screen.

Henry emitted a low whistle, sitting back. "What's _her _name?"

George squinted a bit. "Emily Grace. She's studying to become a doctor. Her favorite television shows are _Dexter _and _Game of Thrones_." His tone was delighted. "Henry, I think she might be the one!"

Henry considered for a moment, and then shook his head. "No. She's out of your league."

"Who's in my league, then?" George asked, looking an equal amount hurt and curious.

His friend took control of the keyboard, and after a few moments sat up triumphantly. "This girl is about your league. Her name is Mildred and she's 63 years of age. Her defining features are the huge, hairy mole on her face-"

"-Henry, that's hurtful!"

"-but she might be your soulmate, George!"

"What are you two doing?" William asked, finally, breaking into their bickering. There was a short pause as he worked it out. "…Are you on a dating site?"

George had gone a shade of red, and Henry didn't miss an opportunity to be snarky. "George has an account. And if you think that's embarrassing, you should see the collection of Ruby Ogden posters he has."  
At that point, George was hitting Henry pathetically.

William knew from experience that the man could not throw a punch, even when he was trying to. Shaking his head fondly, he leaned back into the couch and closed his eyes, his thoughts returning once more to the phone incident today. It couldn't possibly have been the real Julia Ogden, that at least he had determined. But then, if it wasn't Julia, who had it been? A prank call seemed the obvious solution. That was it. A prank call. Case closed.

So why did it feel as if that wasn't the case at all?


	5. Chapter 5

Julia tried very hard not to bite her lip as she stared unseeingly down at the menu. She blinked hard, doing her best to remain calm and composed. The outdoor terrace of the restaurant was filled with tourists, some of who were already gaping at her. The last thing she needed was to be on the front page of the tabloids again, especially for something like a breakdown. Mentally, she cursed her wayward agent and representative. She'd told him before. She had informed him about this day, about what it meant to her.

But he had forgotten. She should have known. Julia had planned to spend her day hidden inside her house, away from prying eyes, grieving quietly. She had intended to spend the day alone, save a few jars of Nutella and a season of _CSI._ Ruby, she knew, would probably be out, partying the day away. The girl was never much affected by the past, and was the polar opposite of Julia, who often let herself become wrapped up in it.

Today was the anniversary of her mother's death.

Her mother had been beautiful, that much she knew. She couldn't quite remember her mother's face clearly through the haze of time, but she had a photo that she kept in her wallet. She looked more like Ruby, in stature and facial shape, but Julia had inherited her mother's eyes. It was one of the only physical traits that the pair shared, and Julia envied her younger sister for just that reason. Ruby had always been able to twist their father around her little finger because of her resemblance to his deceased wife.

Julia hadn't known her mother long enough, in her opinion, and couldn't recall very much about her. She did, however, remember her mother's breezy, carefree attitude. Even in the picture that Julia now pulled out, she looked at ease. Joyful. Happy. Nothing had ever fazed Elizabeth Ogden; not even the cancer that had taken away her life. Her father and mother had worked perfectly together, and Julia was well aware that without her, he was incomplete. He was stubborn and hot-tempered, narrow-minded and uptight. She had been calm and collected, open-minded and even-tempered. Without his wife, Robert Ogden's worst qualities had been brought to the fore. Julia and her father clashed on many matters, and had not spoken in roughly six months. She knew that today, of all days, she should build bridges- but she couldn't bring herself to make the call. Her father was archaic and as stubborn as she was. The chasm between them was too wide.

Yes, Julia remembered those things about her mother, but it was what she didn't know that frustrated her. What had been her favorite color? Her favorite films? Why had she insisted upon giving her first-born daughter the name of Julia, when her father had wanted- shudder- Myrtle? She missed a mother's presence in her life, plain and simple.

"Julia!" Thomas slid into the chair across from her, flashing a comradely grin.

Julia jumped and almost spilled her water all over herself. The ginger-haired agent caught the glass just in time, and then put it away firmly. "You're jumpy today, Ogden," he commented, and Julia glared at him.

"You surprised me, that's all," she snapped, and Thomas' eyebrows shot up, almost into his hairline. "No need to be like that, sweetheart," the man said in a placating manner, to no avail. Julia continued to glower heavily, slipping easily from misty sadness to annoyance, and Thomas calling upon a waiter and ordering a bottle of wine only broke stony the silence. Julia knew better than to assume that he was ordering the bottle for both of them; she had seen him go at alcohol before.

It was a while before either of the pair spoke. Thomas scrolled through his phone, occasionally chuckling or clucking at what he read, while Julia nibbled aimlessly at a piece of bread. She had no desire at all to speak to her slimy agent- she quite simply simmered with fury toward him at the moment- but she figured that she would have to be the one to set the conversation in motion. "And then I can get out of here," she murmured to herself, quietly, fiddling with the napkin folded neatly in her lap.

"Huh? Did you say something?" Thomas asked, looking up at last from his phone screen.

"Nothing at all," Julia said, certain what she had envisioned to be a pleasant tone was coming across as hostile and confrontational. She took a deep breath and counted to ten, and began again. "I assume there is a reason you've called me here?"

"Of course there is. A professional agent like me would never just want to see his client."

"I'm a little bit insulted," Julia said dryly, and she breathed in deeply once more. "I do hope this isn't about Mr. Garland. I've made my views perfectly clear on the matter."

Thomas frowned, just a bit, and then his brow cleared. "No. I've given up on that," he said, his smile widening further as the bottle of wine was set before him.

Julia narrowed her eyes, attempting in vain to scrutinize his gleeful expression. "I'm glad to hear it," she said finally, and she sat back, folding her arms and trying not to stare too pathetically at the glass he had just poured for himself. _A drink would definitely be welcome right now._

Unfortunately, after taking an enormous sip out of the overfilled glass, he noticed. "No," he said hastily and brusquely. "Get your own. You can bloody well afford it."

"I knew I chose you to be my agent for a reason, Thomas," Julia said, mock serious. "Your generosity and kind-heartedness completely astounds me."

He grunted and waved a hand. "Let's just get this over with. I have places to be and people to see, and you obviously don't want to be here."

"Lets," said Julia, more eagerly than she had intended, taking her eyes off of his beverage.

"You finish filming in three and a half weeks, and I know that you like to keep busy. I've scored you a television gig- one episode. The filming will take about four days, there's a strategic Tim Hortons by the studio, and the money's good. The show is one of the most popular ones airing currently, and therefore the publicity will be excellent-"

"-I want to read the script before I accept," she interrupted, and then tacked on a grudging: "But it sounds pretty good. The light work will make a change for me."

"I figured you'd say that," Thomas said, resigned. "I sent a script ahead to your house, along with the interview dates that I've arranged. They're pretty sparse- a few radio, a few magazine, and one on live television. I've also caught scent of a few potential blockbusters; I'll keep you updated on those. We need to make sure you'll never be out of work, even for a moment. I also sent over a list of the press you'll have to do."

Julia took a moment to appreciate how Thomas had belted all of that out without even a single breath in between, and then she frowned. "Press? What kind of press?"

"The usual kind. Red carpet appearances, premières, a few interviews with cast-mates. They want you to do some charity events with Garland as well. All for publicity, and there's no ifs or buts." He broke off to glare at her warningly. "It's in your contract."

"Fine," Julia said moodily, now picking at the breadcrumbs that littered her plate. "I'll do what's in my _contract_. Nothing more, nothing less."

"I wouldn't dare to ask for anything else," Thomas replied, his charming grin returning. "I also wanted to talk to you about your première event next week." He refilled his glass.

Julia brightened visibly. Though she had only played a small part in the film, she had enjoyed production thoroughly and was looking forward to being reunited with her cast-mates. She was also elated to be returning to her home-city of Toronto for the event, and planned to stay for seven days afterward. Julia realized she missed her home, with an almost physical ache. She had learned to love New York, but was certain that Canada- and, specifically, Toronto- was where she belonged. It would be refreshing to set foot on Canadian soil after an almost unbroken three-year stretch in the States.

"I knew that would cheer you up a bit. Ruby says you've been rambling about it for days now," Thomas chuckled with a wink. He realized his mistake a few seconds after he'd made it.

"Ruby? Why on earth are you talking to Ruby?" Julia asked sharply, her eyes boring into Thomas. He grimaced and shrugged helplessly. "She was… looking for a manager."

"And you said?" Julia prompted icily.

"I said no. Obviously. Said I… could only handle one high-profile client at a time. She was a little huffy, but we parted on good terms. That girl doesn't need my help, anyways. She knows exactly how to get publicity. The paparazzi are all over her, and she doesn't even have to try. I wish you were more like her, sunshine."

Julia exhaled in relief. She was well aware that her sister was already on a foolish path, and her agent would do nothing but egg her on and worsen her faults. The idea of Ruby having a manager, however, was not half-bad. It would have to be somebody who could handle her difficult ways, somebody who would be firm and be able to sort out the troubles her young sister often got herself into. Lost in thought and biting her lip hard, Julia missed what Thomas said next. She caught his pointed look and straightened up, listening half-heartedly to his speech about making sure to talk to prominent businessman Terrance Meyers, who owned Shaftesbury Films, and about what door she was to enter and exit from in order to avoid the always overwhelming crowd of fans. Her thoughts floated between her mother and images of Toronto, and it was only at the word 'contest' that her agent snagged her undivided attention. "Contest?" she asked, puzzled. "I didn't hear anything about a contest. Does it have anything to do with me?"

"You weren't listening to me, were you? Shaftesbury thought it up as a promotional for the premiere. It's just a little thing that you can enter online- you can win a free ticket to the première of the movie," Thomas spoke with exaggerated patience.

She relaxed, leaning back against her chair, quite relieved. "Good. I'm just reassured, I suppose, that this contest isn't like the last one you forced me into. The one in which I had to have coffee with the contest winner- who happened to be a forty year old man?"

"I had security put on you the whole time," he defended himself, "and besides, all profits went to your favorite charities. Wasn't it worth it? And I in no way forced you into it."

She spluttered at that. "You agreed to my role in the draw before _I_ had consented to it myself! You completely backed me into a corner. I had no choice in the matter!"

Again, Thomas waved an airy hand, something he obviously did quite often. "It's all water under the bridge now, isn't it, sweetheart?"

Her succinct response was overridden by his obnoxious and very loud ringtone, a distinct opera tune she didn't quite recognize. Julia had tried it and had found she hadn't much taste for the opera. She'd gone once with Thomas reluctantly, as a show of appreciation for all he did for her, but the harrowing experience had put her off for good. The day had been long and grueling, and Julia had made the terrible mistake of falling asleep mid-show. Needless to say, she had left the theatre half deaf and since had quite the aversion toward any kind of opera. Her agent was a nutcase in that division.

"A minute," Thomas said to Julia, clicking a button on his phone and lifting it to his ear. Julia watched with a mild degree of interest as he spoke heatedly into the device about deals and transactions. His shrewdness toward business always surprised her when it showed; he seemed to be a simple-minded man. Honestly, it surprised her when he showed he was able to think about more than booze, his wife, and his children.

"Sweetheart, I have to run. I've told you everything you need to know, I think. You can handle looking over the scripts and deciding what to say for your interviews." He didn't wait for her response, jumping up and barreling across the restaurant terrace, still talking rapidly into his phone.

Julia groaned aloud as she realized he'd left the bill with her, and she put her head in her hands, returning once more to the quiet grief she'd thus far successfully held at bay. As she twisted in her seat to look out at New York, it registered that it was a beautiful day. The sky was a light periwinkle, with feathery white clouds strewn across it. The harsh lights of the city didn't seem to penetrate the glowing golden sunlight that bathed the buildings and cast dark shadows upon the dusty gray-white pavement below. It seemed a peaceful day, one to relax, but New York was the city that never slept. Nobody took a slower pace as they bustled by; the chatter that arose into the muggy, humid air was anything but subdued. The cool breeze, a welcome reprieve from the clamminess of the summer day, brushed Julia's face and tugged lightly at her hair.

She closed her eyes for a brief moment, and then turned her face to the sun. It was then that she made a decision- subconsciously at first, and then she realized what she intended to do, just after she had retrieved her phone. She was going to phone her father.  
Julia could see her mother clearly now, in a rare moment of lucid memory.

_She ran to her mother, throwing herself into her comforting arms, burying her face in the crook of her neck. Tears streaked down her cheeks and her chubby toddler hands clutched at a worn patchwork blanket. Her mother stroked her back for a moment, and then she gently lifted Julia up. "Come on, let's get you to bed," she said gently, shooting a baleful glance at her husband. As they walked- up the tall, twisty staircase that had always intimidated Julia, even as she had grown- her mother had whispered in her ear. "Don't mind Daddy," she murmured, and Julia had looked up at her with wide eyes. "Daddy's just tired and stressed. He loves you to bits, no matter what. Always remember that, won't you, Julia? No matter what disagreements you have." _

Julia put the phone to her ear and maintained her neutral expression even as a gruff voice answered. "Mr. Ogden. Who is calling?"

"Hey, dad- father. It's me," Julia said softly. There was a short, abruptly shocked silence. And then: "Julia? Is that you?"

"Can we talk?" she asked hesitantly, standing up and leaving the paid bill on the table. Fully aware that many pairs of curious eyes now rested upon her, she picked her way slowly away from the restaurant and into the crowded streets. The hush on the other end of the phone was absolutely killing her, and she felt a few cracks form in her careful poker face as she walked blindly.

"Of course we can," her father told her, and there was no hint of the cold businessman he had become in his tone. Julia's voice faltered a bit. "Are you busy?"

"Not any more," he replied immediately, his own voice a great deal steadier than hers. Despite herself, Julia's heart lightened considerably and the traces of a smile began to form on her face.

Perhaps building bridges wouldn't be so hard after all.


	6. Chapter 6

William had inspected the tickets carefully. He had pinched himself several times to confirm that he wasn't playing a role in some absurd dream- as he was often subject to the most bizarre of fantasies. He had tirelessly asked George, over and over, to the point where even his patience had worn thin. All evidence pointed toward a simple reality: he had won free admission to the première of already world-famous film, _Blood and Circuses_. The movie's premise had intrigued William from the get-go; it centered around a travelling circus with a murderer in their midst. The cast was stellar, the pre-reviews were rave, and it was an assured blockbuster. William had known the première would be held in Toronto, but he had also known he hadn't a hope of going. It was far too expensive, and besides, he'd reasoned, spending such extortionate amounts of money merely to be the first to watch a film and have the opportunity to glimpse its stars was illogical. Even when George had entered both of their names into an online contest, he had never expected to win. Thousands of people would have entered the contest themselves, and there was no doubt some would find a way to put their names in more than once. What were the odds of being chosen for those tickets?

But, then, what had been the odds of getting that peculiar phone call, just several weeks ago? There were millions of phone numbers in the world; why had his been the one that had been accidentally dialed?

William pressed his fingers against his temple, feeling, to his consternation, a dull pain begin to form there. He slouched in his seat and sipped at the tea set before him gingerly, wincing as it scalded his tongue and raising his head to look around. His phone buzzed, but he studiously ignored it, as he had been doing for the past few hours. William was tired of batting away George's fervent gratitude, even though it was well intentioned. In his eyes, it was only fair that he take his roommate along to the opening of the film- after all, if it hadn't been for George, he would certainly have never won the contest, as he'd have never even entered. For a brief period of time, William had considered taking Susannah and had felt tremendously guilty about choosing George over his beloved sister upon his decision. Susannah had caught wind of this and had waved it off, tactfully arranging a theatre date with her friend Anna on the very same night. William had seen right through her, but he was grateful nonetheless and quite reassured. He had even attempted to pay for her theatre ticket, but his sister flat-out refused to take the money he offered.

"I'm not a charity case, Will," she'd snapped, eyes flaring in a rare show of temper, and then her voice had softened considerably. "I appreciate the gesture, really, I do. But… Will, can't you see that you are already doing enough for me as it is? Paying my tuition fees, helping me along every time I hit a rough patch… I feel beyond terrible every time I take your hard-earned money."

"We're flesh and blood, Susannah," William had replied firmly, setting his jaw. "When we were young, we always stood by each other and supported each other. I have no intention of stopping now. I know that you would do the same for me, and it is my duty as your older brother to look out for you."

Susannah had accepted that, at least, but grudgingly, insisting that she would pay William back when the opportunity presented itself. In spite of this, William knew that he could never take the money, no matter how enraged his refusal would make her. She would need it later, to find a suitable house, to start a family. Besides, he could withstand Susannah's wrath; her temper, while fierce and hard to provoke, came in short bursts and usually died out quickly. There had been a time; back when they had both still lived with their wretched father, that William had hidden her treasured doll, the one that she had called Jillian. That had been wildly out of character, but there was something about dolls- any kind of dolls- that made William uneasy. They had always unsettled him, what with their blank painted eyes and their frozen, almost sinister (or, so he thought) expressions. He had never been able to pinpoint exactly what it was about them that troubled him so, and had futilely attempted to talk his sister into disposing of hers. Unfortunately for him, Jillian and Susannah were inseparable, and so, his nine-year old self had grimly reasoned, he had to take action himself. Once he had obtained the disturbing doll, however, he had found himself unable to destroy it. That would be plain malicious, and William had not been acting in spite. Instead he had hidden it well, and it was the afternoon of that gloomy day that he had discovered Susannah's deep-rooted temper. Ever since then, he had been careful not to inflame this surprisingly waspish side of her. But this was different. He'd brave his little sister's fury without hesitation for this reason.

The moments trickled by, and he took another swig of his still-hot tea, staring unseeingly around at the nearly empty Tim Hortons. He didn't blink as the door swung open and a woman barreled in. That was, until she knocked into his table and sent his beverage splattering across the beige-tiled floor.

William gave a massive start as the table moved, and managed to avoid the stream of scorching tea even as it fell through the air. He gaped at it momentarily and then turned his gaze to the woman, who had stumbled to a halt and placed her hand on the table to prevent her from taking a tumble. "I'm so sorry," she said, quickly, stooping to pick up the cup, which had survived its impact against the harsh ground, save a small crack.

William blinked a few times, and then registered the hot liquid dripping down her dark jacket, trailing a stain. "I'm sorry," he replied, a reflective response.

The woman gave him a strange look- or it seemed to be a strange look. She wore a thick woolen scarf across her face and her hair seemed to have been hastily tucked into a cap, and so it was hard for William to scrutinize her expression. "Don't apologize. It was my fault. I was in a hurry, and I didn't pay attention to where I was putting my feet."

"No harm done," William said diplomatically, though his beverage was now dripping through the floor. "Well, except for your jacket."

"That doesn't matter," she said impatiently, eying the blot with disinterest. Her voice seemed vaguely familiar, but the scarf material distorted it. "I'm sorry about your drink. Let me buy you another one." As she spoke, she fiddled with the hat placed upon her head, and William caught a glimpse of reddish-blonde hair.

"That's not necessary," he protested, but she was already moving toward the counter and ordering. He watched, the hint of a smile forming on his face, curiosity pricking at him. Why was this woman wearing a scarf, a hat, and a jacket on such a warm summer afternoon- well, it was almost evening, he realized after checking his watch. The event began in approximately one and a half hour. His phone startled him by buzzing violently in his pocket, and at last he checked it. There were ten unread texts from George, the last reading: _Will! I have no idea what to wear for the premiere! Would I look out of place if I wore the suit that Aunt Begonia made for me?_

William frowned. _I thought that your Aunt Begonia was the one that passed away, George. _

The reply was almost instantaneous. _Oh, Will, that's a completely different Aunt Begonia. I have two, you see. Completely different! Night and day! They used to argue about which one of them was the 'real' Begonia. In fact, they argued about simply everything. I suppose they resented each other for having the same name. They used to fight over me, too- both of them wanted to be my favorite Aunt Begonia. _

William chuckled aloud, not having realized that the woman had rejoined him with two drinks. She raised an eyebrow and slid his over, all the while expertly sipping her steaming coffee. "Something funny?" the woman asked brightly, lowering the scarf a tad.

William paused. "Er… my room- my friend. He's very- uh- well, funny," he said awkwardly, putting down his cell. The woman looked away for a moment. "Sorry. That was none of my business, really. I suppose I'm just craving human conversation. I just got in from the train and I didn't speak to anybody the entire time. I was lost in my novel."

William took the tea and glanced up again, interested. "Oh? Where did you get in from?"

"New York City. I'm here on business," she replied, her blue-green eyes sparkling.

William's inquisitiveness bit at him again, and it was all he could do not to ask her about her strange attire. He noticed her gaze flicking toward the door and introduced himself hastily. For some odd reason- unbeknownst even to him- William didn't want this conversation to end. There was something interesting…. No, compelling, he determined, about her. He wanted to hear what she had to say next. He wanted to know who she was.

"I'm William. William Murdoch. Thank you for the coffee, by the way."

"Don't worry. I owed it to you," she said with a coy laugh. "But it's nice to meet you, William." The woman eyed him for a few seconds, and then broke into a puzzled smile, or at least he believed it was a smile from the twitch of the scarf. "I'm sorry. You just seem… _so_ familiar. Are you sure we haven't met before?"

William wanted to point out that her face was covered; even if he _had _met her, he wouldn't have known it. But he held his tongue, not wanting to appear rude, and searched for something to say. Her brow cleared as the silence wore on. "Oh. Sorry. I'm Julia. Julia Ogde…" the words stuttered to a halt and her eyes clouded with complete panic. "Julia… Julia Ogdar," she finished, weakly.

William could only gawk. His quick brain began to fit the puzzle pieces together, clicking them into place at a breakneck pace. Julia lived in New York City, according to George. 'Business'- the première tonight. It had completely escaped him that Julia had played a small role in _Blood and Circuses_. The scarf and hat were surely to keep her identity anonymous. After all, Julia Ogden was a household name. She must have wanted to navigate the streets of Toronto and grab a coffee without being stampeded by fans and admirers. Her voice… her voice! It matched the voice he had heard on the phone that lunch-break from work.

"You're Julia Ogden," he said, numbly, unaware of how loud he had spoken. The words seemed suddenly magnified in the empty store, and the woman slouched behind the counter looked up very sharply.

"I'm sorry, I have to go," Julia broke into his rapidly spiraling thoughts, already moving toward the door. The scarf had slipped, revealing the face that was plastered across almost every billboard in Canada.

"You don't have to…" William protested unconvincingly.

"Oh, yes I do," Julia countered, looking beyond him to the Tim Hortons employee, who was already dialing her phone excitedly. William only had time to feel angry that he had spoken so thoughtlessly before Julia had exited the little store. He watched her dash across the parking lot, silhouetted by the dying sunlight, and then sat down at his table heavily. Julia had left her almost full cup on the table, beside his, in her haste to flee the scene. William closed his eyes for a split second. "I guess I owe you a coffee now," he muttered.


	7. Chapter 7

Julia swiveled her body to the side, into the position she often took when walking the red carpet, and fixed her face up into a beaming smile. She held still as the moments trickled by, her eyes wide open despite the blinding flashes. Then, holding her grin despite her aching facial muscles, she waved and continued her walk, carefully lifting up her dress as not to trip over its frilly hem. The thrill of premières had long faded; they had gone from special events to just simply more work that had to be done. It was part of her job, and so she would deal with it. At first, it had been daunting and challenging- to see waves of cheering fans spread out before you, to hear the endless click of cameras and dozens of voices belonging to reporters, each attempting to capture your attention if only for a quote- but now it was simply tedious. Julia was completely used and resigned to her celebrity status. She knew exactly what to say about the film, her fellow actors, her director, and her career. She knew just how to deter paparazzi without irritating them. She knew how to subtly promote products and designer clothes without seeming overt. She could even smile continually for hours on end, although it was agonizing and after a while she would almost forget _how_ to smile. Julia, thanks to her agent and several advisors, was an expert when it came to navigating the perilous, ever-churning waters of Hollywood. One day the media would be calling you the 'most real person in Hollywood' and the 'most beautiful woman in America', and the next they would be mercilessly tearing you into little pieces, aided by unflattering pictures and slamming headlines. Julia had always tried her best to be a boring celebrity, giving journalists nothing to latch on to. She focused on her work; she didn't do anything scandalous, and her relationships were quiet affairs. She never vied for attention as Ruby did, never lit up when she spotted her picture on a magazine or a newspaper. Regardless of this, she was the golden girl of the tabloids, who were constantly on the hunt for bits of dirt. Whether this meant digging into her family history, grilling her constantly, breaking into her dressing room- this had happened once before, and it had been a most alarming and eye-opening experience for Julia- these people would stop at almost nothing to sell a good story. And Julia hated it. She didn't hate the reporters themselves, as most of them weren't bad people. They were just people doing a job. But she hated the total lack of privacy in her life. She wished that they would all just back off and leave her alone.

"Julia! Julia!"

Julia halted, almost at the door for the theatre, readying herself for the barricade of questions soon to strike her. She smoothed back her hair and her winning smile returned. "You're from… _the Hollywood_ _Times_? I'd be delighted to answer a few of your questions before the movie starts," she said calmly, radiating a friendliness and openness that didn't quite reach her heart. She had been told only to answer to _the Hollywood Times_.

The man looked up and Julia was pleased that she knew him; he had penned an interview of hers before. His name drifted in the back of her mind and she snatched at it. "Mr. Paddy Glynn?"

"That's me," Paddy said, his slight smirk widening as he produced a recording device. "Flattered that you remembered me, Ms. Ogden."

"How could I not? I'm an avid fan of your column, Mr. Glynn," Julia replied easily. That wasn't exactly the truth, as she had only read several of his articles, but perhaps if she softened him up, his questions would be less demanding than they could be.

She had no such luck. His eyes narrowed doubtfully, and his response was flippant. "Glad to hear it, but I'm here to hear about you, and, of course, _Blood and Circuses_. There have been rumors, Ms. Ogden, that you originally tried out for the lead role in this film, but were turned down in favor of Ms. Ivy Connings. Care to comment?"

Julia had been completely prepared for that question, and for the thousandth time that evening, she thanked the heavens for her very thorough agent. "I did originally audition for the main role, and I'm extremely relieved that Ivy was chosen over me. She completely made the role her own, and I can't imagine anybody else- much less myself- in the part. I won't deny that I am glad I was still able to be a part of this wonderful production, though," Julia told him steadily, not pausing once and not breaking eye contact. He blinked, and then nodded, mumbling something to himself that Julia didn't catch, and he nearly jumped three feet in the air as he was tapped on the shoulder.

Amos, over six foot tall and rippling with muscles and menace, glowered at the smaller man. "Last question," Julia's bodyguard insisted in a low, barely audible voice. Julia hid a smile as Paddy fumbled with and almost dropped his gadget. "Last- last question. Okay. All right. Um. How does it feel, being back in your home city? If I recall correctly, you were born and raised in Toronto, and spent most of your life here."

Julia didn't miss a beat. "It feels fantastic," she said, fully truthfully. "I'd just about forgotten how much I love Toronto, and Canada. I leaped for joy when I was told the première would take place here." _And hit my head on the ceiling. _

"Interview over," Amos growled as Paddy opened his mouth. He shuffled toward the man purposefully, and Paddy rapidly backed off, muttering a hasty farewell.

"It was nice speaking to you!" Julia called after him, and she smirked wryly at Amos. "You're getting very good at warding people off, though his questions weren't too bad."

"Easier than being a boxer," Amos responded, maintaining his protective position but his face softening from its impassive stare. "And better paid, too," he added lightheartedly.

Julia nodded. "I'll bet you were a first-class, boxer, though," she said absently, standing on her toes and peering down the carpet. She had just spotted the top-paid actress of the film, whose acting skills were worth her dollar count, followed by several of the other actors playing main roles. Ivy was easily identifiable by her striking vine tattoos and her bright red hair, tightly curled for tonight's appearance. She strode with a confidence that Julia didn't possess, not stopping for the cameras to fixate on her and with her head held high. Just behind her was beautiful supermodel-turned actress Kitty Walker, who did pause to strike a pose. Julia smiled their way, but her expression stiffened and her eyes snapped with ice as she noticed the small figure approaching. He was small, not more than eleven or twelve, but his swagger rivaled even Ivy's. Dorri Smith had played her son in the film, and Julia was ashamed to admit that the child had completely won her over. He had played the role- and well- of a sweet, innocent child actor, befuddled by life on set. She had taken him under her wing and showed him the ropes, and it was only when she had caught him stealing valuables from her trailer that she had realized what a two-faced, conniving little monster he was. Julia had wanted to go to the police about the theft, but the company had talked her out of it. They'd do anything to prevent possible bad press for their projects, and the rising star of Blood and Circuses becoming involved with the authorities was a big no-no. Dorri had sent Julia a hand-written apology and even came to her door with large, pleading eyes and a box of chocolate, but she had ignored him. She wouldn't be duped so effortlessly again.

"Calm down," Amos muttered in her ear, "you look like you're about to blow a gasket. Ignore the kid. People are noticing."

With effort, Julia composed herself enough to hug Ivy and Kitty, and managed to greet Dorri, who looked smug. "Are we ready to go in? Does anyone else need to arrive?" Ivy asked, fanning herself with a rigid piece of paper and glancing around impatiently. Julia shook her head. "Everyone else is ready. We were the last four to arrive. Even the contest-winner is already here and inside, apparently."

"Great. Let's move along. All these lights are bad for my complexion," Kitty said, instantly, stepping into the dim theatre and disappearing from sight. Julia turned her face away to hide her eye-roll from any curious paparazzi and then trailed the girl with the wary Amos in tow. The sunshine-yellow painted lobby was large and rounded; the scent of buttered popcorn hung in the air and Julia inhaled deeply as she passed the concession stand. She'd have liked to take a look around the cushioned, sofa-adjourned room, but she figured that they had already delayed the starting of the film by about ten minutes and didn't want to be a further inconvenience. The theatre itself was chilly, and Julia welcomed the drop in temperature gladly, as she was sweating a fair amount. The lights had already dimmed, and she watched her step as she picked her way along the top row toward her reserved seat beside Ivy and, to her infuriation, her pig-headed director who reeked something absolutely terrible. Grimly resigning herself to a smelly two hours, she plopped herself down into her seat, placed her hand on the side of her head and half-closed her eyes, paying little attention to the trailers that flashed across the large, projected screen at break-neck pace. After a little while, she was able to tune out all noises- and stenches- and her thoughts were able to finally return to the little scene at the local Tim Hortons. Julia tried in vain to put it to the back of her mind, as she had when readying herself for the event, but this time she was unsuccessful in her endeavor. The man she had met there, he had seemed so… so different. So familiar, in a peculiar, distant, kind of way. She knew, of course, that no matter what her instincts told her, they had never met. Julia would have known if she'd seen him before; she'd have sat up and paid attention if she had ever even once glanced upon him.

It wasn't due to his attractiveness, though he was, without a doubt, strikingly attractive. Julia had met many a handsome men over the course of her life. It was his mannerisms, the quiet way that he spoke, the measured intelligence in his dark brown eyes, even the endearing awkwardness he seemed to possess. Their conversation had been short, cut off abruptly by the one thing that always seemed to pop up and spoil the best of moments. The fact that she was world-famous Julia Ogden, the actress whose face everyone was surely tired of seeing in the magazines. Julia had betrayed her own identity in a second's slip, a split second of foolishness. She had found it far too easy to talk to him, to slip out of her 'Julia Ogden the actress' persona and become her real self. He'd realized quickly whom she was, and she had left in haste, not wanting to see his reaction or have to face- heaven forbid- a request for an autograph or a photo. That had happened several times before, leaving Julia endlessly wary. You could never tell, she thought grimly, what somebody was after once they discovered her fame and wealth.

Suddenly hot and bothered despite the coolness of the room, Julia stood up discreetly and brushed past her cast mates toward the sneaky side exit, cautious not to make even the tiniest of sounds. Many stars didn't stay for the actual viewing of the film and quietly left once the opening credits rolled, but Julia always made a point to stay, feeling as if it were impolite to disappear. She promised herself that she would return as she pushed out into the open air. "I just need a breather," Julia muttered to herself, closing the door softly behind her and leaning against the marble wall, allowing her eyelids to flutter shut.

"I needed one, too," said an unmistakable voice hesitantly, from her left.

Julia's eyes snapped open and she turned, startled, an unidentifiable feeling tightening in her belly. "I didn't see you there," she spoke feebly, her eyes quite wide. She took several seconds to compose herself, and then gave him a quizzical look. "What exactly are you doing here?"

"I won the contest," William Murdoch replied with a slight smile, "though I can't take much credit for it. My friend entered for me." He raised his eyebrows, appraising Julia. "Are you not enjoying the movie, then?"

"I've already seen the rough cut of the film," Julia explained, crossing her arms and giving him a look. "It doesn't matter if I miss a few minutes. What's your excuse?"

"George's ridiculously loud popcorn munching." The corners of William's mouth turned upwards, and Julia suppressed a small smile of her own. "Would George be the amusing friend that you were texting earlier?" she asked prudently.

"Yes, he would. He's also the one that got me here, so I shouldn't really be difficult about it."

Standing here, with only a bit of distance between them, Julia was able to fully appreciate just how handsome this man was. His eyes, dark and seemingly soft and sympathetic, seemed to draw her in, captivate her, trap her in their depths. She controlled and steadied her breathing, hoped that she didn't look as flustered as she felt at their sudden encounter, and once more held out her hand. "I suppose it's time that I introduce myself properly. My name is Julia Ogden, and I'm delighted to meet you, William Murdoch."

He took her hand gently and shook it, holding on for slightly longer than necessary- Julia felt a bolt of disappointment lace through her when he released his grip. There was a rather comfortable pause, and she fixed her gaze on the dark skyline, flecked with the white pinpoints of light that were stars. William spoke then.

"I'm sorry about before, at the coffee shop. I didn't think- I just spoke. I know it must be difficult for you, being so famed, and I completely understand why you would want to remain anonymous for a little while. I apologize for revealing your identity." His tone was strangely formal. Julia mock-glared at him for a moment, and then her façade slipped and a playful smirk burst through. "My identity? I'm not exactly Batman, William."

William smiled broadly in response to that. "So, I take it you've accepted my apology?"

"Hmm… mostly. Being as you did spoil my little pre-premiere outing, and due to the fact that I left my beverage on the table, I believe you at least owe me a coffee," Julia told him, with a false air of haughty expectancy.

"That's just what I was thinking, actually," admitted William, looking as if he thought he was being far too bold by agreeing. "How about…"

The door flew open suddenly, nearly knocking the poor man into a heap. A thin, seedy-looking usher who couldn't have been a day over sixteen muttered a hasty apology and then turned to Julia. "Miss Ogden," he stammered, looking somewhat awed, "Miss Ivy sent me. Mr…. um, Mr. Director is getting in a bit of a tizzy at your absence. She strongly suggests that you return for the duration of the movie."

Julia pulled a face. "Thank you," she told the messenger, and then she glanced at William. "I'd better go. Directors can be very temperamental. Are you coming?"

He shook his head. "I think I'll stay out for a little bit longer."

"We'll talk after the film, then, if that's alright with you? I'd quite like to meet this George of yours; he sounds to be a very interesting man."

"That he is," William said dryly, and then his eyes flickered up to meet Julia's. "After the film it is."

With a final, somewhat discomfited nod, head spinning from the eye contact, Julia opened the door and stumbled into the theatre.


	8. Chapter 8

**This chapter is dedicated to my ever-supportive friend. I told her I was going to write a full fanfiction. She laughed. **

**But this is chapter eight, so... ha! Enjoy, all!**

* * *

When William made his way slowly out of the theatre, George at his side and chattering elatedly per usual, he didn't imagine Julia to be waiting for him. She was, after all, internationally famed, and seemed to be exceedingly busy. Why on earth would she waste her precious time in Toronto- he had gathered that the city meant quite a bit to her, thanks to his roommate's seemingly endless stash of magazines- with him, of all people? He nodded to himself as he walked, George's attempts at conversation simply floating in one ear and drifting out of the other. She'd have rushed off into a waiting car, eager to escape the masses of fans awaiting her exit, and though William was disappointed at his conclusion, he didn't at all blame her. He valued his own privacy far too greatly to be irritated at Julia for wanting to protect and preserve her own. Eyes glued to his feet, he continued along the walkway, slipping past the thick, long line of people unnoticed. Disappointment welled up inside of him, leaving a dull bitter taste upon his tongue, and even when George pulled to an unexpected halt, he maintained his brisk pace. "Come on, George," William called, allowing his tone to take on a sharp edge. "There's no point in lingering. The crowd will be dispersing soon, and then they'll be on us."

There was no reply to this, and William, grinding his teeth, turned on his heel. "_George_-"

Julia raised her eyebrow, looking mildly surprised. "What put you in such a terrible mood, William?" she asked, tilting her head just slightly. "Did you truly not enjoy the film?"

She was standing behind George, who had frozen in place and wore a look of- almost comical- astonishment. He recovered little by little, looking between William and Julia with confusion, his eyes still large and his brow furrowed in a puzzled manner.

Julia, it seemed, had slipped out of her rather long and fluffy dress. She was adjourned in simple dark pants and an oversized sweater whose print William could not read in the darkness. He wasn't surprised to see that the majority of her face was hidden in dusky shadow, shielded by the stretched hood, though the reddish-colored hair spilling onto her shoulders somewhat gave the game away. "Were you leaving?" Julia demanded, sounding very put-out. "I thought that we were going to meet after the film concluded?"

William's eyes widened fractionally; he had a strong feeling that making Julia angry was not the safest of situations. She seemed to be the type who would take self-defense or archery classes in her free time, and William had no desire to end up with the spear of an arrow in his stomach. He smiled a little at the exaggeration of these thoughts, but sobered himself quickly as Julia's eyes flashed dangerously. "I didn't spot you," he said, very ineffectually, gesturing to the scene around him. "I thought…"

"Please. I was behind you the entire time! You didn't even pause to look! Didn't it occur to you that I may have been delayed; that you should have waited a few moments before concluding that I had disappeared?" she asked, her tone still drenched with annoyance.

"I… ah…" William struggled to find the words that would perfectly describe his actions, and then became acutely aware of George, still watching the pair of them as if their conversation was an avidly interesting tennis match. "Er… George, may I introduce Julia Ogden," he said, phrasing it as if it were a question.

Julia's expression softened almost instantly and she held out her hand, moving forward so that she was parallel to George. "It's nice to meet you," she said earnestly, even smirking a bit at some furtive thought. "I heard it was really you who won the tickets to tonight."

George recovered from his stupefied state remarkably promptly, shaking her hand enthusiastically, though his tone was still partially bemused. "Yes, it was," he replied with a wide smile. "Will didn't want me to enter, but I did it anyway. I know how much he loves your films; he never misses one! He-"

"George," William hissed, under his breath, shooting his friend an exasperated glare. His cheeks had to be burning red by now; the light pooling from the streetlamp above now seemed to be betraying him, and so he turned away for a moment.

Julia looked amused. "Is that so? I'm highly flattered," she said with a grin. "And what about you, George? What kind of movies do you enjoy?"

George shrugged modestly. "I'm not really a movie person. I like reading books- I'm a novelist, you see. Working on a novel currently." His face was suddenly animated, his eyes shining with the energy that he always seemed to possess.

"Oh, really? May I ask- what is your novel about?" Julia asked, sounding quite intrigued.

"Well…. I've written several. My most recent is about dinosaurs. I've been doing a lot of research- I learn much through my readings- and then I watched Jurassic Park. I was terrified! I couldn't even make it to the end of the movie! And so, I thought, what if the same thing were to happen… but in Toronto? It is possible, you know," George said, earnestly, his dark eyes serious. "I, for one, believe that dinosaurs still exist… somewhere. In my novel, scientists have been experimenting with dinosaurs that they discovered, tampering with their DNA… and giving these dinosaurs _super powers._ One of them can shoot _lasers out of its eyes." _

Julia's face seemed impassive, though William thought that he could see her eyes twinkling brightly. "Of course! That's ingenious, George. Maybe-" her voice dropped into a whisper "-your theory is correct. Maybe our government is developing these dinosaurs as creatures of war, breeding them to wreak havoc on any enemies they may have."

"That's exactly what I was thinking!" George replied, excitement elevating his voice.

William groaned quietly, wanting very much to bury his head in his hands. "Please, Julia. Don't encourage him. I'll be hearing about government conspiracies and laser-beam dinosaurs for weeks," he muttered, with a sigh. Looking up, he found that Julia was regarding him carefully, biting her lip as not to laugh and twisting the lengthy scarf she now held in her hands.

"All right," she said with another smile. "So, have you decided when you're going to buy me that coffee?"

"Tonight?" William suggested, almost immediately, his heart beginning to pound wildly in his chest. He still couldn't quite believe that this was happening- half of him still waited for this bizarre dream to reach its conclusion- and after a heartbeat of silence; he bitterly regretted his impulsive words. Was he ready to talk to Julia Ogden, one-on-one? Shouldn't he have some sort of preparation? How would he know what to say? His throat suddenly dry, he opened his mouth once more. "I-"

"Not tonight." Julia's voice was deeply apologetic; she swung around as if looking for observers. "It's late, and these kind of events always wipe me right out. I might nod off and fall into my coffee- that happened once. The pictures spread across the Internet like a wildfire." She winced, seemingly at the painful memory, and then gave him another searching look. "How about two days from now? I have press obligations tomorrow."

"Two days from now sounds great," William said, automatically, exhaling in relief. Two days was enough time to brace himself and prepare. The word _prepare_ struck a humorous chord within him- he was reminded of George's first date with former girlfriend Tess Moffat. The pair had met during a police investigation and gotten along well; regardless of this, George had been absolutely terrified of their first date. He had gone so far as to prepare conversation topics on Sticky Notes, much to William's amusement. He still hadn't the faintest idea why George had gone to such bother- the man never seemed to stop talking about something or other; surely finding discussion with a girl that he already got along with would not be difficult. Now, though, with his own 'date' approaching, William felt that he could understand his friend's fear. When Julia was around, his mind always seemed to be wiped blissfully blank. Even now, he stumbled over his words, attempting in vain to find a response. Would she find him boring? Their lives were so different, black and white, sharply, contrasted… was it possible that she shared at least some of his interests?

"Great," Julia repeated. "Same Tim Hortons? 1:00?"

He nodded mechanically, still unable to say anything at all.

There was a fairly awkward silence, and then Julia nodded. "I'd better be off. George, make sure you keep writing that novel. I'd definitely like to hear more about it." She turned around, straightened out her hood, and then gave a little half-wave before walking briskly away, toward the center of the city, where the brightest of lights twinkled, piercing the dark blue of the night. William watched until her figure was long out of sight, and then turned himself. "Come on, George."

"Henry is never going to believe this," muttered George, under his breath, moving to follow.

William smiled wryly. "I'm counting on it."


	9. Chapter 9

It was a gorgeous day.

The sun hung lazily in the pale, early morning sky. It seemed not white-hot as it often was, but a pale, inviting golden color. Clouds edged the blue, almost threateningly, but they were white and fluffy- nothing like the ominous gray storm clouds that would soon be followed by rain. The temperature was remarkably placid for a day in the midst of August; it seemed odd, wedged in between stiflingly scorching bouts of weather. Even if one were to feel uncomfortably hot, they would have the cool breeze that batted at the city to lean back upon. Many people appeared to be taking advantage of this fine day; the usually quiet, secluded forests nearby were abuzz with hikers, play-parks bustled with excited children and their ever-chasing parents… even the paved streets of Toronto seemed busier, as if numerous citizens had decided to walk to their destinations in place of driving or using other methods of transportation. The hazy dreariness that accompanied heat had temporarily vanished, though doubtless it would soon return.

William had decided to take the climate as a good omen, having woken up in high spirits. The previous day had been spent with Susannah, and as he had not seen his younger sister in person for several weeks, and he had enjoyed their time together thoroughly. He was sure that she had as well, but… underneath her liveliness, there had been a trace of worry. There had certainly been something off about her, and though William knew his sister well, he had been unable to ascertain what. Near the end of his visit, he had dared to ask her about it- and she had more or less bitten his head off. It was clear that she wasn't yet ready to share whatever it was that was bothering her, and though he concerned, William was prepared to be patient. She would confide in him eventually, and he would help in any way possible. It had always been that way between them.

As William walked, he found himself becoming almost metaphorical. If the beauty of the day symbolized the outcome of his upcoming coffee with Julia, then surely the looming clouds represented the nerves that chipped away at him. His anxiety had much waned since his encounter with her at the film premiere, but it was still present, spread thinly across the corners of his mind. With some assistance from Susannah and George, who was incredibly excited for his roommate, William had been able to put Julia's movie-star status out of his mind. She was an ordinary person, after all. Acting was simply her job. There was no need to be uneasy about that aspect of their date, no need to feel as if he wasn't suited to her. _Just a job_, he had reminded himself, frequently, whenever his thoughts turned to what was to come-, which, quite frankly, was often.

His nervous tension wasn't entirely depleted, in spite of this. William was a worrier at heart, and Susannah never missed an opportunity to gripe at him for this, in a playful manner. He supposed this was because of all the time spent worrying as a child- worrying about his father returning home each night, worrying about his sister's wellbeing, worrying about both of their misty, open-ended futures… the habit, he thought wryly, had stuck. William had been on dates before, but, peculiarly, this one seemed different; more important. He'd never quite felt the way he did around Julia prior to meeting her. Never before had his heart so wildly hammered in his chest; never before had he so desperately wanted to know more about another person. He couldn't afford to mess this up.

William crossed the road amid a thick group of people, his eyes fixed ahead as the coffee shop in which he had first encountered Julia came slowly into view. The place was small and worn, with washed-out beige bricks pattering its surface and bits of paper- now unreadable posters- clinging to its wall. He could see exactly why Julia had chosen this place. As an A-list celebrity, paparazzi and reporters would expect her to dine at Toronto's finest and most expensive restaurants. This diminutive Tim Hortons was tucked out of the way discreetly; it was unlikely that anybody would look for Julia here. William felt gratitude flicker through him at this. He'd seen his share of vicious, celebrity-slamming articles, and had no wish to end up in one of them due to his time spent with Julia Ogden. A poisonous seed of notion, crammed into the very edge of his mind, began to extend its draping tendrils across his thoughts, souring them. If something _were_ to happen between Julia and him… improbable as this was, he reminded himself yet again… everything he knew would change, be flipped around. Privacy shattered. Secrets divulged in newspapers and magazines. Ceaseless queries and intrusions, needling their way into his life. Normalcy would be thrown out of the window as soon as his ties to Julia were discovered. William was unsure if he could live the way she did, and he frowned deeply as he swung open the door of the shop and entered. The small, rectangular room was fairly busy, compared to the usual standard of the store, but for once, William appreciated the buzz and the bustle. The last thing they needed was their conversation to be overheard.

Julia was seated at a small table for two, just beside the tinted windowpane. Her arms were folded tightly over her chest, and her head was ducked, her hair falling forward and shielding her face. Spread out across the exterior of the table was a newspaper; freshly printed, William guessed. As he moved closer, he was able to read snatches of bold print. The words **_Premiere_**, **_stars_**, **_discussion, _**and **_resentful _**jumped out at him, and he sighed as he sat down across from Julia. "Has there been some sort of controversy about _Blood and Circuses_' premiere?"

Julia jumped, and then fixed him with a half-hearted glare. "Hello to you, too," she mumbled, and then she shook her head. Her stiff posture and hard eyes betrayed her irritation, but as she looked at him, she relaxed visibly. "There's no controversy. The premiere went very well- the reviews are phenomenal, just as expected. There was a little spat between Terrance Meyers and Allen Clegg after I left… but that's nothing new." Amusement tugged at Julia's lips and her eyes sparkled as she spoke of the two men. William was very distracted by this, but he managed to form a sentence with effort.

"Terrance Meyers and Allan Clegg?" he asked, curiously, his eyebrows arched.

"Meyers is the head of Shaftesbury Films. Clegg is the head of another film company, an American one. Both are very successful, very rich, and very disagreeable- they often try to nab projects from each other and can often be caught badmouthing the other to press. Naturally, when they come face-to-face, they rile each other up. Both were at the event two nights ago." Julia shrugged, grimacing. "I made sure to avoid them. I didn't want to be caught in the inevitable blow up. I may have had to declare my loyalties, and I have acted in films for both companies. The situation is extremely awkward."

"I can imagine," William replied, smiling a little despite himself.

"What's so funny?" Julia asked, her tone perplexed, shooting him a look that was both mystified and searching.

William paused for a moment, struggling to find words to convey his sudden flash of merriment. "It's just… the people you talk about… they seem almost like characters in a novel. They sound almost unreal to me. And, of course, hearing about them reminds me of the contrast between my life and yours."

Julia nodded, rather seriously. "You have no idea how often I wish for a life similar to the one you lead. But then I remember why I put up with all of the crap. Acting is my passion. There's nothing that I would rather be doing."

"You've always aspired to be an actress, then?" William glanced down as she moved the paper aside and folded her hands together.

"Well…" Julia's voice wavered slightly. "I did consider pursuing a medical career. Gore and blood has never bothered me as it does my sister, and I found that science fascinated me. Ruby cut herself on a jagged piece of glass when I was twelve years old. My nanny knew exactly what to do, of course. I watched as she assessed, cleaned, and covered the wound, and I decided that I wanted to be able to do that. I biked over to the library and rented out a pile of books to do with the human body, diseases, and conditions. I became quite the medical know-it-all, actually. I believe I moderately annoyed my family."

William smirked at this. "What changed your mind, then?"

"By twelfth grade, I had it all planned out. I would attend medical school. I was completely certain about that; nothing could deter me from the path I had chosen. And then, I auditioned for the school play. It was a silly little thing, I told my parents, a part-time hobby. Despite these claims, I found myself beginning to adore acting. Instead of pouring through science textbooks, I would pour over plays and practice my lines. I began reading drama textbooks, and I often nagged my father to buy me tickets for whatever play was on in Toronto at the time. Finally, at my request, my father connected me to an acting agency. By the summer after high school, I had landed myself the lead role in a proper Hollywood film. I could scarcely believe it. I knew I would be unable to attend university as well as complete my requirements for the film… and so I was forced to make a choice. With encouragement from Ruby, I chose acting. The film I had chosen to participate in was globally massive. Thanks to its success, jobs began to roll in at a pace I could only just keep up with. Suddenly, I had a career." Julia looked down at her intertwined hands then, not meeting William's intense gaze. "I was just lucky. My father was a wealthy man. He bribed the acting agency into accepting me as a client, without my knowledge. When I discovered this, I was horrified." Her voice trailed off.

"But," William said, vehemently, "Even if your father hadn't bribed the agency, you would have been accepted. Julia, you're one of the best actresses in Hollywood. It was your talent that ensured the success of your first film, and your dedication that brought on further jobs. You may have had some help at the beginning, some nudges, but you built your own career."

"Thank you, William. That's very kind." Finally, Julia lifted her head. She gazed about for a moment in confusion, and then her expression cleared. "I believe we should order. We may be asked to leave if we don't."

At her words, William shot out of his chair, having completely forgotten where they were. "Of-of course," he stammered, caught off guard. "What would you like?"

"Just a coffee, please." Julia replied, half-rising out of her chair. "William, I was simply joking when I claimed that you owed me a coffee. You don't have to-"

"I'd like to," William said, immediately cutting her off. "After all, I do technically owe you a coffee. I don't want to leave my debts unpaid," he added with a cheeky smile.

Her answering smile was dazzling, and he suddenly found it rather hard to breathe. "Um, I'll be right back."

When he returned with the coffees, Julia was perched on her elbows, regarding him with interest as he slid back into his seat. "So, enough about me. What about you? What's your profession?"

William cleared his throat and looked away, awkwardly. "I don't work in the profession I'd like to," he admitted after a lengthy pause. "I'd always had my heart set on becoming an architect or some variation of inventor, thanks to my childhood idol. My father… my father wasn't very supportive, and I thus knew he wouldn't have any money for our education. So for years, I saved and collected. When I graduated high school, I realized I still didn't have enough for tuition. I found myself a job and began to work hard. I figured I would be able to at least pay half upfront, and then work for the rest. But then Susannah graduated."

Julia's eyes were clouded with sympathy. "Susannah is your younger sister?" she asked quietly, leaning forward as if to reach for his hand, and then deciding against it.

William nodded once. "She wished to become a teacher. I knew she would make a wonderful one. I wanted to go to university myself- badly. But I was her older brother. I had always looked out for her, and I wasn't about to stop then. I gave her the money, though she didn't like it. I continued working at my job, regardless of my distaste for it. She's almost finished school now." William couldn't suppress a sigh of frustration as he looked at Julia. Surely by now, she'd be finding him dull and uninteresting, and would be making some excuse as to leave. Her expression surprised him; she seemed in equal measures considerate and engrossed.

"What of your family?" she wondered aloud.

"My mother died when I was young. My father wasn't there for Susannah and I." William's voice was unintentionally curt. He didn't much like talking about his family and his desolate childhood, and Julia seemed to pick up on this- she didn't press him further. He quickly found that she wasn't overly eager to share about her family life, either; all he discovered was that her mother had died long ago, and that she had a strained relationship with her father that was somewhat on the mend.

From there, the conversation swelled and flowed effortlessly. William didn't seem to notice the passing of time as they spoke, sharing information and ideas and memories. Julia had a quirky aura about her, and never failed to make William smile or even laugh, both of which he didn't often do. Her humor came in the form of endearingly terrible jokes and puns, and it surfaced several times as they talked. Julia had far more in common with William than he had ever dared to hope. They exchanged literary preferences and William much impressed Julia when he was able to finish a Shakespeare sonnet she had recited. They discussed science and inventions, all of which Julia was surprisingly knowledgeable about ("I have a lot of time to read on set," she said, with a shrug). They even touched upon the bizarre phone call that William had received from Julia (upon hearing that it had been him who had been at the end of her verbal abuse, Julia had gone a vivid shade of red). William appreciated her intelligence, her obvious compassion, her boldness, the air of independence she carried with her. He thoroughly enjoyed speaking to her, and never once felt bored or restless. The conversation only became uncomfortable when William resolved to ask Julia about religion. He was Catholic, after all, and his faith was a large part of who he was. He had hoped, of course, that she would share his religion, but this seemed to be increasingly unlikely the more he got to know her. Still, he decided, he had to find out. "Julia," William began, diffidently. "May I ask… do you have a particular faith?"

Julia shook her head. "No. Theoretically, I'm Christian, as my family is… but I do not attend church or practice the religion."

William assessed this statement, still cautious. "Are you an Atheist, then?"

"In a way, I suppose," Julia spoke thoughtfully, frowning, "But not completely. I'm more of an Agnostic. Do _you_ have a particular faith?"

"I am Catholic," William responded without delay. "My beliefs and ideals mean a lot to me. I do try to accept things like homosexuality, though I readily admit it is hard for me."

At this point, Julia's ever-present smile became rather strained. She assured William that she had no problem with Catholics and that she respected his beliefs. He believed this, though it was obvious that _something_ was disconcerting her. Her beam became more natural as they moved on to another topic.

William would have happily stayed with Julia for at least several more hours, but Julia groaned and checked the watch upon her wrist. "Again," she said, pulling a regretful face, "I must run. My infuriating agent set up a meeting with a possible employer, and it begins in roughly thirty minutes. I'd better get home and change. My life, as you can see, is very busy." She stood, and William followed suit.

"Don't worry. I have to go now, anyways. I have a… work thing," he lied, as to put her at ease.

Julia gave him a look as to show that she wasn't fooled, and then pulled a ballpoint pen from her handbag. She scribbled a number onto a napkin and then pressed it into William's hands. "Call me," she said with a sly grin. "I promise, I won't shout abuse into the phone."

"I'll hold you to that," William told her. He didn't quite know what to do afterward, and Julia rolled her eyes. "Honestly," she muttered to herself, and she took a step forward.

When she kissed him, he felt as if his brain was melting right through his body. She pulled back, a mischievous look dancing in her eyes, and Julia Ogden dashed away.

William sat down heavily, still clutching the napkin, his heart attempting to burst its way through his ribcage. Sinister thoughts still threaded their way through his brain, mumbling: _Worth it? _over and over again. Now, still reeling from her kiss, William was able to forestall these thoughts. _Worth it. _


End file.
